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Baldwin 

Story  of  the  golden  age 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


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LUNC     IOM-JL     38 


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BY  JAMES  BALDWIN 


THE  SAMPO 

A  STORY  OF  THE  GOLDEN  AGE 
THE  STORY  OF  SIEGFRIED 
THE  STORY  OF  ROLAND 
HERO  TALES  TOLD  IN  SCHOOL 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2011  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/storyofgoldenageObald 


PYRRHUS    FINDS    PHILOCTETES    IN    A    CAVE. 


HEROES  OF  THE  OLDEN  TIME 


A    STORY 


OF 


THE    GOLDEN    AGE 


BY 

JAMES    BALDWIN 


Illustrated  by  Howard  *Pyle 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1937 


Copyright,  1887,  1888,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Copyright,  1915,  bv 
JAMES  BALDWIN 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


All  rights  reserved.  No  part  of  this  hook 
may  be  reproduced  in  any  form  without 
the  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


TO     MAY. 


/ 

n 
> 


THE    FORE    WORD. 


You  have  heard  of  Homer,  and  of  the  two  wonderful 
poems,  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey,  which  bear  his 
name.  No  one  knows  whether  these  poems  were  com- 
posed by  Homer,  or  whether  they  are  the  work  of 
many  different  poets.  And,  in  fact,  it  matters  very 
little  about  their  authorship.  Everybody  agrees  that 
they  are  the  grandest  poems  ever  sung  or  written  or 
read  in  this  world ;  and  yet,  how  few  persons,  com- 
paratively, have  read  them,  or  know  any  thing  about 
them  except  at  second-hand  !  Homer  commences  his 
story,  not  at  the  beginning,  but  "  in  the  midst  of 
things ; "  hence,  when  one  starts  out  to  read  the 
Iliad  without  having  made  some  special  prepara- 
tion beforehand,  he  finds  it  hard  to  understand,  and 
is  tempted,  in  despair,  to  stop  at  the  end  of  the  first 
book.  Many  people  are,  therefore,  content  to  admire 
the  great  masterpiece  of  poetry  and  story-telling  simply 


viii  The  Fore   Word. 

because  others  admire  it,  and  not  because  they  have 
any  personal  acquaintance  with  it. 

Now,  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  give  you  a  "  simpli- 
fied version "  of  the  Iliad  or  the  Odyssey.  There 
are  already  many  such  versions ;  but  the  best  way 
for  you,  or  any  one  else,  to  read  Homer,  is  to  read 
Homer.  If  you  do  not  understand  Greek,  you  can  read 
him  in  one  of  the  many  English  translations.  You 
will  find  much  of  the  spirit  of  the  original  in  the 
translations  by  Bryant,  by  Lord  Derby,  and  by  old 
George  Chapman,  as  well  as  in  the  admirable  prose 
rendering  by  Butcher  and  Lang ;  but  you  can  get 
none  of  it  in  any  so-called  simplified  version. 

My  object  in  writing  this  "Story  of  the  Golden 
Age "  has  been  to  pave  the  way,  if  I  dare  say  it,  to 
an  enjoyable  reading  of  Homer,  either  in  translations 
or  in  the  original.  I  have  taken  the  various  legends 
relating  to  the  causes  of  the  Trojan  war,  and,  by  as- 
suming certain  privileges  never  yet  denied  to  story- 
tellers, have  woven  all  into  one  continuous  narrative, 
ending  where  Homer's  story  begins.  The  hero  of  the 
Odyssey  —  a  character  not  always  to  be  admired  or 
commended  —  is  my  hero.  And,  in  telling  the  story  of 
his  boyhood  and  youth,  I  have  taken  the  opportunity 


The  Fore   Word.  ix 

to  repeat,  for  your  enjoyment,  some  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful of  the  old  Greek  myths.  If  I  have,  now  and  then, 
given  them  a  coloring  slightly  different  from  the  ori- 
ginal, you  will  remember  that  such  is  the  right  of  the 
story-teller,  the  poet,  and  the  artist.  The  essential 
features  of  the  stories  remain  unchanged.  I  have,  all 
along,  drawn  freely  from  the  old  tragedians,  and  now 
and  then  from  Homer  himself ;  nor  have  I  thought 
it  necessary  in  every  instance  to  mention  authorities, 
or  to  apologize  for  an  occasional  close  imitation  of 
some  of  the  best  translations.  The  pictures  of  old 
Greek  life  have,  in  the  main,  been  derived  from  the 
Iliad  and  the  Odyssey,  and  will,  I  hope,  help  you  to 
a  better  understanding  of  those  poems  when  you 
come  to  make  acquaintance  directly  with  them. 

Should  you  become  interested  in  the  "  Story  of  the 
Golden  Age,"  as  it  is  here  related,  do  not  be  disap- 
pointed by  its  somewhat  abrupt  ending;  for  you  will 
find  it  continued  by  the  master-poet  of  all  ages,  in  a 
manner  both  inimitable  and  unapproachable.  If  you 
are  pleased  with  the  discourse  of  the  porter  at  the 
gate,  how  much  greater  shall  be  your  delight  when 
you  stand  in  the  palace  of  the  king,  and  hearken  to 
the  song  of  the  royal  minstrel ! 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE   FORE   WORD v 

ADVENTURE 

I.    A  Glimpse  of  the  World *  i 

II.    A  Voyage  on  the  Sea 13 

III.  The  Centre  of  the  Earth 29 

IV.  The  Silver-Bowed  Apollo jj 

V.    The  King  of  Cattle  Thieves      .....  47 

VI.    Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts  .......  62 

VII.     At  Old  Cheiron's  School 79 

VIII.     The  Golden  Apple 95 

IX.    The  Swineherd 112 

X.    The  Sea  Robbers  of  Messene 121 

XI.    The  Bow  of  Eurytus .  133 

XII.    The  Most  Beautiful  Woman  in  the  World     .        .  146 

XIII.  A  Race  for  a  Wife 154 

XIV.  How  a  Great  Hero  met  His  Master  ....  170 
XV.    Long  Live  the  King     ....        ...  183 

XVI.    The  Children  of  Prometheus       .                .        .        .  190 

XVII.    A  Cause  of  War    .                        205 

si 


xii  Contents. 

ADVENTURE  PAGE 

XVIII.     An  Unwilling  Hero 220 

XIX.     Heroes  in  Strange  Garb  ......       226 

XX.    Becalmed  at  Aulis 238 


XXI.    The  Long  Siege 


252 


THE   AFTER   WORD 269 


NOTES 


273 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Pyrrhus  Finds  Philoctetes  in  a  Cave,        .         .  Frontispiece 

Odysseus  and  His  Mother, To  face  p.  8 

Apollo  Slaying  the  Python, 42 

Meleager  Refuses  to  Help  in  the  Defence  of  the  City,      74 

The  Silver-Footed  Thetis  Rising  from  the  Waves,        .        96 

The  Swineherd  Telling  His  Story  to  Odysseus,        .        .116 

Alpheus  and  Arethusa, 132 

Odysseus   Advises    King    Tyndareus    Concerning    Helen's 
Suitors, 154 

Deianeira  and  the  Dying  Centaur  Nessus,       .        .        .       176 

Prometheus, 198 

Palamedes  Tests  the  Madness  of  Odysseus,     .        .        .       222 
Odysseus  and  Menelaus  Persuading  Agamemnon  to  Sacri- 
fice Iphigenia, 242 

MAPS. 

A  Glimpse  of  the  World  (The  Map  which  Phemius  Drew 

in  the  Sand), To  face  p.  4 

General  Map  of  Greece,         * 278 


A  STORY  OF  THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 


ADVENTURE  L 


A   GLIMPSE   OF  THE  WORLD. 

To  the  simple-hearted  folk  who  dwelt  in  that  island 
three  thousand  years  ago,  there  was  never  a  sweeter 
spot  than  sea-girt  Ithaca.  Rocky  and  rugged  though 
it  may  have  seemed,  yet  it  was  indeed  a  smiling  land 
embosomed  in  the  laughing  sea.  There  the  air  was 
always  mild  and  pure,  and  balmy  with  the  breath  of 
blossoms ;  the  sun  looked  kindly  down  from  a  cloudless 
sky,  and  storms  seldom  broke  the  quiet  ripple  of  the 
waters  which  bathed  the  shores  of  that  island  home. 
On  every  side  but  one,  the  land  rose  straight  up  out  ot 
the  deep  sea  to  meet  the  feet  of  craggy  hills  and  moun- 
tains crowned  with  woods.  Between  the  heights  were 
many  narrow  dells  green  with  orchards  ;  while  the  gen- 
tler slopes  were  covered  with  vineyards,  and  the  steeps 
above  them  gave  pasturage  to  flocks  of  long-wooled 
sheep  and  mountain-climbing  goats. 

On  that  side  of  the  island  which  lay  nearest  the  ris- 
ing sun,  there  was  a  fine,  deep  harbor ;  for  there  the 
shore  bent  inward,  and  only  a  narrow  neck  of  land  lay 
between  the  eastern  waters  and  the  western  sea.     Close 


A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 


on  either  side  of  this  harbor  arose  two  mountains,  Neri- 
tus  and  Nereius,  which  stood  like  giant  watchmen  over- 
looking land  and  sea  and  warding  harm  away ;  and  on 
the  neck,  midway  between  these  mountains,  was  the 
king's  white  palace,  roomy  and  large,  with  blossoming 
orchards  to  the  right  and  the  left,  and  broad  lawns  in 
front,  sloping  down  to  the  water's  edge. 

Here,  many  hundreds  of  years  ago,  lived  Laertes  — 
a  man  of  simple  habits,  who  thought  his  little  island 
home  a  kingdom  large  enough,  and  never  sighed  for  a 
greater.  Not  many  men  had  seen  so  much  of  the  world 
as  he ;  for  he  had  been  to  Colchis  with  Jason  and  the 
Argonauts,  and  his  feet  had  trod  the  streets  of  every 
city  in  Hellas.  Yet  in  all  his  wanderings  he  had  seen 
no  fairer  land  than  rocky  Ithaca.  His  eyes  had  been 
dazzled  by  the  brightness  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  the 
kings  of  Argos  and  of  Ilios  had  shown  him  the  gold 
and  gems  of  their  treasure-houses.  Yet  what  cared  he 
for  wealth  other  than  that  which  his  flocks  and  vine- 
yards yielded  him  ?  There  was  hardly  a  day  but  that 
he  might  be  seen  in  the  fields  guiding  his  plough,  or 
training  his  vines,  or  in  his  orchards  pruning  his  trees, 
or  gathering  the  mellow  fruit.  He  had  all  the  good 
gifts  of  life  that  any  man  needs  ;  and  for  them  he  never 
failed  to  thank  the  great  Giver,  nor  to  render  praises 
to  the  powers  above.  His  queen,  fair  Anticleia,  daugh- 
ter of  the  aged  chief  Autolycus,  was  a  true  housewife, 
overseeing  the  maidens  at  their  tasks,  busying  herself 
with  the  distaff  and  the  spindle,  or  plying  the  shuttle 


A  Glimpse  of  the   World. 


at  the  loom ;  and  many  were  the  garments,  rich  with 
finest  needlework,  which  her  own  fair  fingers  had 
fashioned. 

To  Laertes  and  Anticleia  one  child  had  been  born, — 
a  son,  who,  they  hoped,  would  live  to  bring  renown  to 
Ithaca.  This  boy,  as  he  grew,  became  strong  in  body 
and  mind  far  beyond  his  playfellows  ;  and  those  who 
knew  him  wondered  at  the  shrewdness  of  his  speech  no 
less  than  at  the  strength  and  suppleness  of  his  limbs. 
And  yet  he  was  small  of  stature,  and  neither  in  face 
nor  in  figure  was  he  adorned  with  any  of  Apollo's  grace. 
On  the  day  that  he  was  twelve  years  old,  he  stood  with 
his  tutor,  the  bard  Phemius,  on  the  top  of  Mount  Neri- 
tus ;  below  him,  spread  out  like  a  great  map,  lay  what 
was  to  him  the  whole  world.  Northward,  as  far  as  his 
eyes  could  see,  there  were  islands  great  and  small ;  and 
among  them  Phemius  pointed  out  Taphos,  the  home  of 
a  sea-faring  race,  where  Anchialus,  chief  of  warriors, 
ruled.  Eastward  were  other  isles,  and  the  low-lying 
shores  of  Acarnania,  so  far  away  that  they  seemed  mere 
lines  of  hazy  green  between  the  purple  waters  and  the 
azure  sky.  Southward  beyond  Samos  were  the  wooded 
heights  of  Zacynthus,  and  the  sea-paths  which  led  to 
Pylos  and  distant  Crete.  Westward  was  the  great  sea, 
stretching  away  and  away  to  the  region  of  the  setting 
sun ;  the  watery  kingdom  of  Poseidon,  full  of  strange 
beings  and  unknown  dangers,  —  a  sea  upon  which  none 
but  the  bravest  mariners  dared  launch  their  ships. 

The  boy  had  often  looked  upon  these  scenes  of  beauty 


A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 


and  mystery,  but  to-day  his  heart  was  stirred  with  an 
unwonted  feeling  of  awe  and  of  wonder  at  the  great- 
ness and  grandeur  of  the  world  as  it  thus  lay  around 
him.  Tears  filled  his  eyes  as  he  turned  to  his  tutor. 
"  How  kind  it  was  of  the  Being  who  made  this  pleas- 
ant earth,  to  set  our  own  sunny  Ithaca  right  in  the  cen- 
tre of  it,  and  to  cover  it  all  over  with  a  blue  dome  like 
a  tent !  But  tell  me,  do  people  live  in  all  those  lands 
that  we  see  ?  I  know  that  there  are  men  dwelling  in 
Zacynthus  and  in  the  little  islands  of  the  eastern  sea ; 
for  their  fishermen  often  come  to  Ithaca,  and  I  have 
talked  with  them.  And  I  have  heard  my  father  tell  of 
his  wonderful  voyage  to  Colchis,  which  is  in  the  region 
of  the  rising  sun ;  and  my  mother  often  speaks  of  her 
old  home  in  Parnassus,  which  also  is  far  away  towards 
the  dawn.  Is  it  true  that  there  are  men,  women,  and 
children,  living  in  lands  which  we  cannot  see?  and  do 
the  great  powers  above  us  care  for  them  as  for  the 
good  people  of  Ithaca  ?  And  is  there  anywhere  another 
king  so  great  as  my  father  Laertes,  or  another  kingdom 
so  rich  and  happy  as  his  ? " 

Then  Phemius  told  the  lad  all  about  the  land  of 
the  Hellenes  beyond  the  narrow  sea  ;  and,  in  the  sand 
at  their  feet,  ne  drew  with  a  stick  a  map  of  all  the 
countries  known  to  him. 

"  We  cannot  see  half  of  the  world  from  this  spot," 
said  the  bard,  "  neither  is  Ithaca  the  centre  of  it,  as  it 
seems  to  you.  I  will  draw  a  picture  of  it  here  in  the 
sand,  and  show  you  where  lies  every  land  and  every 


Stream 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  WORLD. 

The  Map  which  Phemius  drew  in  the  San<*. 


A  Glimpse  of  the   World. 


sea.  Right  here  in  the  very  centre,"  said  he,  heaping 
up  a  pile  of  sand  into  the  shape  of  a  mountain, — 
"  right  here  in  the  very  centre  of  the  world  is  Mount 
Parnassus,  the  home  of  the  Muses  ;  and  in  its  shadow 
is  sacred  Delphi,  where  stands  Apollo's  temple.  South 
of  Parnassus  is  the  Bay  of  Crissa,  sometimes  called  the 
Corinthian  Gulf.  The  traveller  who  sails  westwardly 
through  those  waters  will  have  on  his  right  hand  the 
pleasant  hills  and  dales  of  ^Etolia  and  the  wooded 
lands  of  Calydon  ;  while  on  his  left  will  rise  the  rugged 
mountains  of  Achaia,  and  the  gentler  slopes  of  Elis. 
Here  to  the  south  of  Elis  are  Messene,  and  sand)  Pylos 
where  godlike  Nestor  and  his  aged  father  Neleus  re;gn. 
Here,  to  the  east,  is  Arcadia,  a  land  of  green  pastures 
and  sweet  contentment,  unwashed  by  any  sea ;  and 
next  to  it  is  Argolis,  —  rich  in  horses,  but  richest  of  all 
in  noble  men,  —  and  Lacedaemon  in  Laconia,  famous  for 
its  warriors  and  its  beautiful  women.  Far  to  the  north 
of  Parnassus  is  Mount  Olympus,  the  heaven-towering 
home  of  Zeus,  and  the  place  where  the  gods  and  god- 
desses hold  their  councils." 

Then  Phemius,  as  he  was  often  wont  to  do,  began  to 
put  his  words  into  the  form  of  music  ;  and  he  sang  a 
song  of  the  world  as  he  supposed  it  to  be.  He  sang 
of  Helios  the  Sun,  and  of  his  flaming  chariot  and  his 
four  white  steeds,  and  of  the  wonderful  journey  which 
he  makes  every  day  above  the  earth ;  and  he  sang  of 
the  snowy  mountains  of  Caucasus  in  the  distant  east ; 
and  of  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides  even  farther  to  the 


6  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

westward ;  and  of  the  land  of  the  Hyperboreans,  which 
lies  beyond  the  northern  mountains ;  and  of  the  sunny 
climes  where  live  the  Ethiopians,  the  farthest  distant 
of  all  earth's  dwellers.  Then  he  sang  of  the  flowing 
stream  of  Ocean  which  encircles  all  lands  in  its  em 
brace  ;  and,  lastly,  of  the  Islands  of  the  Blest,  where 
fair-haired  Rhadamanthus  rules,  and  where  there  is 
neither  snow  nor  beating  rains,  but  everlasting  spring; 
and  breezes  balmy  with  the  breath  of  life. 

"  O  Phemius ! "  cried  the  boy,  as  the  bard  laid  asida 
his  harp,  "  I  never  knew  that  the  world  was  so  large. 
Can  it  be  that  there  are  so  many  countries  and  so 
many  strange  people  beneath  the  same  sky  ? " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Phemius,  "  the  world  is  very  broad, 
and  our  Ithaca  is  but  one  of  the  smallest  of  a  thousand 
lands  upon  which  Helios  smiles,  as  he  makes  his  daily 
journey  through  the  skies.  It  is  not  given  to  one  man 
to  know  all  these  lands ;  and  happiest  is  he  whose  only 
care  is  for  his  home,  deeming  it  the  centre  around 
which  the  world  is  built." 

"  If  only  the  half  of  what  you  have  told  me  be  true," 
said  the  boy,  "  I  cannot  rest  until  I  have  seen  some  of 
those  strange  lands,  and  learned  more  about  the  won- 
derful beings  which  live  in  them.  I  cannot  bear  to 
think  of  being  always  shut  up  within  the  narrow 
bounds  of  little  Ithaca." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  Phemius,  laughing,  "  your  mind 
has  been  greatly  changed  within  the  past  few  moments. 
When  we  came  here,  a  little  while  ago,  you  thought 


A  Glimpse  of  the   World. 


that  Neritus  was  the  grandest  mountain  in  the  world, 
and  that  Ithaca  was  the  centre  round  which  the  earth 
was  built.  Then  you  were  cheerful  and  contented ; 
but  now  you  are  restless  and  unhappy,  because  you 
have  learned  of  possibilities  such  as,  hitherto,  you  had 
not  dreamed  about.  Your  eyes  have  been  opened  to 
see  and  to  know  the  world  as  it  is,  and  you  are  no 
longer  satisfied  with  that  which  Ithaca  can  give 
you." 

"  But  why  did  you  not  tell  me  these  things  before  ?  " 
asked  the  boy. 

"  It  was  your  mother's  wish,"  answered  the  bard, 
"  that  you  should  not  know  them  until  to-day.  Do  you 
remember  what  day  this  is  ? " 

"  It  is  my  twelfth  birthday.  And  I  remember,  too, 
that  there  was  a  promise  made  to  my  grandfather, 
that  when  I  was  twelve  years  old  I  should  visit  him  in 
his  strong  halls  on  Mount  Parnassus.  I  mean  to  ask 
my  mother  about  it  at  once." 

And  without  waiting  for  another  word  from  Phemius, 
the  lad  ran  hurriedly  down  the  steep  pathway,  and  was 
soon  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  Across  the  fields 
he  hastened,  and  through  the  vineyards  where  the 
vines,  trained  by  his  father's  own  hand,  were  already 
hanging  heavy  with  grapes.  He  found  his  mother  in 
the  inner  hall,  sitting  before  the  hearth,  and  twisting 
from  her  distaff  threads  of  bright  sea-purple,  while  her 
maidens  plied  their  tasks  around  her.  He  knelt  upon 
the  marble  floor,  and  gently  clasped  his  mother's  knees. 


8  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

1       "  —■■■■■■■  i  WQ 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  "  I  come  to  ask  a  long-promised 
boon  of  you." 

"What  is  it,  my  son?"  asked  the  queen,  laying  aside 
her  distaff.  "  If  there  be  any  thing  in  Ithaca  that  I 
can  give  you,  you  shall  surely  have  it." 

"  I  want  nothing  in  Ithaca,"  answered  the  boy;  "I 
want  to  see  more  of  this  great  world  than  I  ever  yet 
have  known.  And  now  that  I  am  twelve  years  old, 
you  surely  will  not  forget  the  promise,  long  since  made, 
that  I  should  spend  the  summer  with  my  grandfather 
at  Parnassus.  Let  me  go  very  soon,  I  pray ;  for  I  tire 
of  this  narrow  Ithaca." 

The  queen's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  answered, 
"  You  shall  have  your  wish,  my  son.  The  promise  given 
both  to  you  and  to  my  father  must  be  fulfilled.  For, 
when  you  were  but  a  little  babe,  Autolycus  came  to 
Ithaca.  And  one  evening,  as  he  feasted  at  your  father's 
table,  your  nurse,  Dame  Eurycleia,  brought  you  into 
the  hall,  and  put  you  into  his  arms.  'Give  this  dear 
babe,  O  king,  a  name,'  said  she.  '  He  is  thy  daughter's 
son,  the  heir  to  Ithaca's  rich  realm  ;  and  we  hope  that 
he  will  live  to  make  his  name  and  thine  remembered.' 

"Then  Autolycus  smiled,  and  gently  dandled  you 
upon  his  knees.  '  My  daughter,  and  my  daughter's  lord/ 
said  he,  '  let  this  child's  name  be  Odysseus  ;  for  he  shall 
visit  many  lands  and  climes,  and  wander  long  upon  the 
tossing  sea.  Yet  wheresoever  the  Fates  may  drive  him, 
his  heart  will  ever  turn  to  Ithaca  his  home.  Call  him 
by  the  name  which  I  have  given ;  and  when  his  twelfth 


ODYSSEUS    AND    HIS    MOTHER. 


A  Glimpse  of  the   World. 


birthday  shall  have  passed,  send  him  to  my  strong  halls 
in  the  shadow  of  Parnassus,  where  his  mother  in  her 
girlhood  dwelt.  Then  I  will  share  my  riches  with  him, 
and  send  him  back  to  Ithaca  rejoicing  ! '  So  spake  my 
father,  great  Autolycus  ;  and  before  we  arose  from  that 
feast,  we  pledged  our  word  that  it  should  be  with  you 
even  as  he  wished.  And  your  name,  Odysseus,  has 
every  day  recalled  to  mind  that  feast  and  our  binding 
words." 

"Oh  that  I  could  go  at  once,  dear  mother!"  said 
Odysseus,  kissing  her  tears  away.  "  I  would  come 
home  again  very  soon.  I  would  stay  long  enough  to 
have  the  blessing  of  my  kingly  grandfather;  I  would 
climb  Parnassus,  and  listen  to  the  sweet  music  of  the 
Muses ;  I  would  drink  one  draught  from  the  Castalian 
spring  of  which  you  have  so  often  told  me ;  I  would 
ramble  one  day  among  the  groves  and  glens,  that  per- 
chance I  might  catch  a  glimpse  of  Apollo  or  of  his 
huntress  sister  Artemis  ;  and  then  I  would  hasten  back 
to  Ithaca,  and  would  never  leave  you  again." 

"  My  son,"  then  said  Laertes,  who  had  come  unheard 
into  the  hall,  and  had  listened  to  the  boy's  earnest 
words,  —  "  my  son,  you  shall  have  your  wish,  for  I  know 
that  the  Fates  have  ordered  it  so.  We  have  long  looked 
forward  to  this  day,  and  for  weeks  past  we  have  been 
planning  for  your  journey.  My  stanchest  ship  is  ready 
to  carry  you  over  the  sea,  and  needs  only  to  be  launched 
into  the  bay.  Twelve  strong  oarsmen  are  sitting  now 
upon  the  beach,  waiting  for  orders  to  embark.     To 


io  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

morrow,  with  the  bard  Phemius  as  your  friend  and 
guide,  you  may  set  forth  on  your  voyage  to  Parnassus. 
Let  us  go  down  to  the  shore  at  once,  and  offer  prayers 
to  Poseidon,  ruler  of  the  sea,  that  he  may  grant  you 
favoring  winds  and  a  happy  voyage." 

Odysseus  kissed  his  mother  again,  and,  turning,  fol- 
lowed his  father  from  the  hall. 

Then  Anticleia  rose,  and  bade  the  maidens  hasten  to 
make  ready  the  evening  meal ;  but  she  herself  went 
weeping  to  her  own  chamber,  there  to  choose  the  gar- 
ments which  her  son  should  take  with  him  upon  his 
journey.  Warm  robes  of  wool,  and  a  broidered  tunic 
which  she  with  her  own  hands  had  spun  and  woven, 
she  folded  and  laid  with  care  in  a  little  wooden  chest ; 
and  with  them  she  placed  many  a  little  comfort,  fruit 
and  sweetmeats,  such  as  she  rightly  deemed  would  please 
the  lad.  Then  when  she  had  closed  the  lid,  she  threw 
a  strong  cord  around  the  chest,  and  tied  it  firmly  down. 
This  done,  she  raised  her  eyes  towards  heaven,  and  lift- 
ing up  her  hands,  she  prayed  to  Pallas  Athene  :  — 

"  O  queen  of  the  air  and  sky,  hearken  to  my  prayer, 
and  help  me  lay  aside  the  doubting  fears  which  creep 
into  my  mind,  and  cause  these  tears  to  flow.  For  now 
my  boy,  unused  to  hardships,  and  knowing  nothing  of 
the  world,  is  to  be  sent  forth  on  a  long  and  dangerous 
voyage.  I  tremble  lest  evil  overtake  him ;  but  more 
I  fear,  that,  with  the  lawless  men  of  my  father's  house- 
hold, he  shall  forget  his  mother's  teachings,  and  stray 
from  the  path  of  duty.     Do  thou,  O  queen,  go  with  him 


A  Glimpse  of  the   World.  1 1 

as  his  guide  and  guard,  keep  him  from  harm,  and  bring 
him  safe  again  to  Ithaca  and  his  loving  mother's  arms." 

Meanwhile  Laertes  and  the  men  of  Ithaca  stood 
upon  the  beach,  and  offered  up  two  choice  oxen  to 
Poseidon,  ruler  of  the  sea ;  and  they  prayed  him  that 
he  would  vouchsafe  favoring  winds  and  quiet  waters 
and  a  safe  journey  to  the  bold  voyagers  who  to-morrow 
would  launch  their  ship  upon  the  deep.  And  when  the 
sun  began  to  sink  low  down  in  the  west,  some  sought 
their  homes,  and  others  went  up  to  the  king's  white 
palace  to  tarry  until  after  the  evening  meal. 

Cheerful  was  the  feast ;  and  as  the  merry  jest  went 
round,  no  one  seemed  more  free  from  care  than  King 
Laertes.  And  when  all  had  eaten  of  the  food,  and  had 
tasted  of  the  red  wine  made  from  the  king's  own  vint- 
age, the  bard  Phemius  arose,  and  tuned  his  harp,  and 
sang  many  sweet  and  wonderful  songs.  He  sang  of 
the  beginning  of  things ;  of  the  broad-breasted  Earth, 
the  mother  of  created  beings ;  of  the  sky,  and  the  sea, 
and  the  mountains  ;  of  the  mighty  race  of  Titans,  — 
giants  who  once  ruled  the  earth  ;  of  great  Atlas,  who 
holds  the  sky-dome  upon  his  shoulders ;  of  Cronos  and 
old  Oceanus ;  of  the  war  which  for  ten  years  raged  on 
Mount  Olympus,  until  Zeus  hurled  his  unfeeling  father 
Cronos  from  the  throne,  and  seized  the  sceptre  for 
himself. 

When  Phemius  ended  his  singing,  the  guests  with- 
drew from  the  hall,  and  each  went  silently  to  his  own 
home ;  and  Odysseus,  having  kissed  his  dear  father  and 


12  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

mother,  went  thoughtfully  to  his  sleeping-room  high  up 
above  the  great  hall.  With  him  went  his  nurse,  Dame 
Eurycleia,  carrying  the  torches.  She  had  been  a 
princess  once ;  but  hard  fate  and  cruel  war  had  over- 
thrown her  father's  kingdom,  and  had  sent  her  forth  a 
captive  and  a  slave.  Laertes  had  bought  her  of  her 
captors  for  a  hundred  oxen,  and  had  given  her  a  place 
of  honor  in  his  household  next  to  Anticleia.  She  loved 
Odysseus  as  she  would  love  her  own  dear  child  ;  for, 
since  his  birth,  she  had  nursed  and  cared  for  him. 
She  now,  as  was  her  wont,  lighted  him  to  his  chamber ; 
she  laid  back  the  soft  coverings  of  his  bed ;  she 
smoothed  the  fleeces,  and  hung  his  tunic  within  easy 
reach.  Then  with  kind  words  of  farewell  for  the  night, 
she  quietly  withdrew,  and  closed  the  door,  and  pulled 
the  thong  outside  which  turned  the  fastening  latch. 
Odysseus  wrapped  himself  among  the  fleeces  of  his 
bed,  and  soon  was  lost  in  slumber.1 

1  See  Note  i  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


ADVENTURE  U. 


A  VOYAGE  ON  THE  SEA. 

Early  the  next  morning,  while  yet  the  dawn  was 
waiting  for  the  sun,  Odysseus  arose  and  hastened  to 
make  ready  for  his  journey.  The  little  galley  which 
was  to  carry  him  across  the  sea  had  been  already 
launched,  and  was  floating  close  to  the  shore ;  and  the 
oarsmen  stood  upon  the  beach  impatient  to  begin  the 
voyage.  The  sea-stores,  and  the  little  chest  in  which 
the  lad's  wardrobe  lay,  were  brought  on  board  and 
placed  beneath  the  rowers'  benches.  The  old  men  of 
Ithaca,  and  the  boys  and  the  maidens,  hurried  down  to 
the  shore,  that  they  might  bid  the  voyagers  God-speed. 
Odysseus,  when  all  was  ready,  spoke  a  few  last  kind 
words  to  his  mother  and  sage  Laertes,  and  then  with  a 
swelling  heart  went  up  the  vessel's  side,  and  sat  down 
in  the  stern.  And  Phemius  the  bard,  holding  his 
sweet-toned  harp,  followed  him,  and  took  his  place  in 
the  prow.  Then  the  sailors  loosed  the  moorings,  and 
went  on  board,  and,  sitting  on  the  rowers'  benches, 
wielded  the  long  oars ;  and  the  little  vessel,  driven  by 
their  well-timed  strokes,  turned  slowly  about,  and  then 

»3 


14  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age, 

glided  smoothly  across  the  bay ;  and  the  eyes  of  all  on 
shore  were  wet  with  tears  as  they  prayed  the  rulers  of 
the  air  and  the  sea  that  the  voyagers  might  reach  their 
wished-for  port  in  safety,  and  in  due  time  come  back 
unharmed  to  Ithaca 

No  sooner  had  the  vessel  reached  the  open  sea,  than 
Pallas  Athene  sent  after  it  a  gentle  west  wind  to  urge 
it  on  its  way.  As  the  soft  breeze,  laden  with  the 
perfumes  of  blossoming  orchards,  stirred  the  water  into 
rippling  waves,  Phemius  bade  the  rowers  lay  aside  their 
oars,  and  hoist  the  sail.  They  heeded  his  behest,  and 
lifting  high  the  slender  mast,  they  bound  it  in  its  place ; 
then  they  stretched  aloft  the  broad  white  sail,  and  the 
west  wind  caught  and  filled  it,  and  drove  the  little  bark 
cheerily  over  the  waves.  And  the  grateful  crew  sat 
down  upon  the  benches,  and  with  Odysseus  and  Phe- 
mius the  bard,  they  joined  in  offering  heartfelt  thanks 
to  Pallas  Athene,  who  had  so  kindly  prospered  them. 
And  by  and  by  Phemius  played  soft  melodies  on  his 
harp,  such  as  the  sea-nymphs  liked  to  hear.  And  all 
that  summer  day  the  breezes  whispered  in  the  rigging, 
and  the  white  waves  danced  in  the  vessel's  wake,  and 
the  voyagers  sped  happily  on  their  way. 

In  the  afternoon,  when  they  had  begun  somewhat  to 
tire  of  the  voyage,  Phemius  asked  Odysseus  what  they 
should  do  to  lighten  the  passing  hours. 

"Tell  us  some  story  of  the  olden  time,"  said  Odys- 
seus. And  the  bard,  who  was  never  better  pleased 
than  when  recounting  some  wonderful  tale,  sat  down 


A   Voyage  on  the  Sea.  15 

in  the  midships,  where  the  oarsmen  could  readily  hear 
him,  and  told  the  strange  story  of  Phaethon,  the  rash 
son  of  Helios  Hyperion. 

"  Among  the  immortals  who  give  good  gifts  to  men, 
there  is  no  one  more  kind  than  Helios,  the  bestower 
of  light  and  heat.  Every  morning  when  the  Dawn 
with  her  rosy  fingers  illumes  the  eastern  sky,  good 
Helios  rises  from  his  golden  couch,  and  from  their 
pasture  calls  his  milk-white  steeds.  By  name  he  calls 
them,  — 

" '  Eos,  iEthon,  Bronte,  Astrape  ! ' 

"  Each  hears  his  master's  voice,  and  comes  obedient. 
Then  about  their  bright  manes  and  his  own  yellow 
locks  he  twines  wreaths  of  sweet-smelling  flowers,  — 
amaranths  and  daffodils  and  asphodels  from  the  heaven- 
ly gardens.  And  the  Hours  come  and  harness  the 
steeds  to  the  burning  sun-car,  and  put  the  reins  into 
Helios  Hyperion's  hands.  He  mounts  to  his  place,  he 
speaks,  —  and  the  winged  team  soars  upward  into  the 
morning  air ;  and  all  earth's  children  awake,  and  give 
thanks  to  the  ruler  of  the  Sun  for  the  new  day  which 
smiles  down  upon  them. 

"  Hour  after  hour,  with  steady  hand,  Helios  guides 
his  steeds ;  and  the  flaming  car  is  borne  along  the 
sun-road  through  the  sky.  And  when  the  day's  work 
is  done,  and  sable  night  comes  creeping  over  the  earth, 
the  steeds,  the  car,  and  the  driver  sink  softly  down 
to  the  western  Ocean's  stream,  where  a  golden  vessel 


1 6  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age, 

waits  to  bear  them  back  again,  swiftly  and  unseen,  to 
the  dwelling  of  the  Sun  in  the  east.  There,  under  the 
home-roof,  Helios  greets  his  mother  and  his  wife  and 
his  dear  children  ;  and  there  he  rests  until  the  Dawn 
again  leaves  old  Ocean's  bed,  and  blushing  comes  to 
bid  him  journey  forth  anew. 

"  One  son  had  Helios,  Phaethon  the  Gleaming,  and 
among  the  children  of  men  there  was  no  one  more  fair. 
And  the  great  heart  of  Helios  beat  with  love  for  his 
earth-child,  and  he  gave  him  rich  gifts,  and  kept  nothing 
from  him. 

"  And  Phaethon,  as  he  grew  up,  became  as  proud  as 
he  was  fair,  and  wherever  he  went  he  boasted  of  his 
kinship  to  the  Sun  ;  and  men  when  they  looked  upon 
his  matchless  form  and  his  radiant  features  believed  his 
words,  and  honored  him  as  the  heir  of  Helios  Hyperion. 
But  one  Epaphos,  a  son  of  Zeus,  sneered. 

"'Thou  a  child  of  Helios!'  he  said;  'what  folly  \ 
Thou  canst  show  nothing  wherewith  to  prove  thy  kin 
ship,  save  thy  fair  face  and  thy  yellow  hair ;  and  there 
are  many  maidens  in  Hellas  who  have  those,  and  are 
as  beautiful  as  thou.  Manly  grace  and  handsome  fea- 
tures are  indeed  the  gifts  of  the  gods ;  but  it  is  by 
godlike  deeds  alone  that  one  can  prove  his  kinship  to 
the  immortals.  While  Helios  Hyperion  —  thy  father, 
as  thou  wouldst  have  it  —  guides  his  chariot  above  the 
clouds,  and  showers  blessings  upon  the  earth,  what  dost 
thou  do?  What,  indeed,  but  dally  with  thy  yellow 
locks,  and  gaze  upon  thy  costly  clothing,  while  all  the 


A   Voyage  on  the  Sea.  ij 

time  thy  feet  are  in  the  dust,  and  the  mire  of  the  earth 
holds  them  fast  ?  If  thou  hast  kinship  with  the  gods, 
prove  it  by  doing  the  deeds  of  the  gods !  If  thou  art 
Helios  Hyperion's  son,  guide  for  one  day  his  chariot 
through  the  skies.' 

"Thus  spoke  Epaphos.  And  the  mind  of  Phaethon 
was  filled  with  lofty  dreams  ;  and,  turning  away  from 
the  taunting  tempter,  he  hastened  to  his  father's  house. 

"Never-tiring  Helios,  with  his  steeds  and  car,  had 
just  finished  the  course  of  another  day  ;  and  with  words 
of  warmest  love  he  greeted  his  earth-born  son. 

"'  Dear  Phaethon,'  he  said,  'what  errand  brings  thee 
hither  at  this  hour,  when  the  sons  of  men  find  rest  in 
slumber  ?  Is  there  any  good  gift  that  thou  wouldst 
have  ?    Say  what  it  is,  and  it  shall  be  thine.' 

"  And  Phaethon  wept.  And  he  said,  '  Father,  there 
are  those  who  say  that  I  am  not  thy  son.  Give  me, 
I  pray  thee,  a  token  whereby  I  can  prove  my  kinship 
to  thee.' 

"And  Helios  answered,  'Mine  it  is  to  labor  every 
day,  and  short  is  the  rest  I  have,  that  so  earth's  chil- 
dren may  have  light  and  life.  Yet  tell  me  what  token 
thou  cravest,  and  I  swear  that  I  will  give  it  thee.' 

'"Father  Helios,'  said  the  youth,  'this  is  the  token 
that  I  ask  :  Let  me  sit  in  thy  place  to-morrow,  and 
drive  thy  steeds  along  the  pathway  of  the  skies.' 

"Then  was  the  heart  of  Helios  full  sad,  and  he  said 
to  Phaethon,  '  My  child,  thou  knowest  not  what  thou 
askest.     Thou  art  not  like  the  gods  ;  and  there  lives 


1 8  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

no  man  who  can  drive  my  steeds,  or  guide  the  sun- 
car  through  the  skies.  I  pray  thee  ask  some  other 
boon.' 

"But  Phaethon  would  not. 

" '  I  will  have  this  boon  or  none.  I  will  drive  thy 
steeds  to-morrow,  and  thereby  make  proof  of  my  birth- 
right.' 

"Then  Helios  pleaded  long  with  his  son  that  he 
would  not  aspire  to  deeds  too  great  for  weak  man  to 
undertake.  But  wayward  Phaethon  would  not  hear. 
And  when  the  Dawn  peeped  forth,  and  the  Hours  har- 
nessed the  steeds  to  the  car,  his  father  sadly  gave  the 
reins  into  his  hands. 

" '  My  love  for  thee  cries  out,  "  Refrain,  refrain ! " 
Yet  for  my  oath's  sake,  I  grant  thy  wish.' 

"  And  he  hid  his  face,  and  wept. 

"  And  Phaethon  leaped  into  the  car,  and  lashed  the 
steeds  with  his  whip.  Up  they  sprang,  and  swift  as  a 
storm  cloud  they  sped  high  into  the  blue  vault  of 
heaven.  For  well  did  they  know  that  an  unskilled 
hand  held  the  reins,  and  proudly  they  scorned  his 
control. 

"The  haughty  heart  of  Phaethon  sank  within  him, 
and  all  his  courage  failed ;  and  the  long  reins  dropped 
from  his  nerveless  grasp. 

" '  Glorious  father,'  he  cried  in  agony,  '  thy  words 
were  true.  Would  that  I  had  hearkened  to  thy  warn- 
ing, and  obeyed ! ' 

"And  the  sun-steeds,  mad  with  their  new-gained  free- 


A  Voyage  on  the  Sea.  19 


dom,  wildly  <  areered  in  mid-heaven,  and  then  plunged 
downward  towards  the  earth.  Close  to  the  peopled 
plains  they  dashed  and  soared,  dragging  the  car  behind 
them.  The  parched  earth  smoked  ;  the  rivers  turned 
to  vaporous  clouds ;  the  trees  shook  off  their  scorched 
leaves  and  died  ;  and  men  and  beasts  hid  in  the  caves 
and  rocky  clefts,  and  there  perished  with  thirst  and  the 
unbearable  heat. 

"'O  Father  Zeus!'  prayed  Mother  Earth,  'send  help 
to  thy  children,  or  they  perish  through  this  man's  pre- 
sumptuous folly ! ' 

"  Then  the  Thunderer  from  his  high  seat  hurled  his 
dread  bolts,  and  unhappy  Phaethon  fell  headlong  from 
the  car ;  and  the  fire-breathing  steeds,  affrighted  but 
obedient,  hastened  back  to  the  pastures  of  Helios  on 
the  shores  of  old  Ocean's  stream. 

"Phaethon  fell  into  the  river  which  men  call  Eridanos, 
and  his  broken-hearted  sisters  wept  for  him ;  and  as 
they  stood  upon  the  banks  and  bewailed  his  unhappy 
fate,  Father  Zeus  in  pity  changed  them  into  tall  green 
poplars  ;  and  their  tears,  falling  into  the  river,  were 
hardened  into  precious  yellow  amber.  But  the  daugh- 
ters of  Hesperus,  through  whose  country  this  rivef 
flows,  built  for  the  fair  hero  a  marble  tomb,  close  by 
the  sounding  sea.  And  they  sang  a  song  about  Phae- 
thon, and  said  that  although  he  had  been  hurled  to  the 
earth  by  the  thunderbolts  of  angry  Zeus,  yet  he  died 
not  without  honor,  for  he  had  his  heart  set  on  the 
doing  of  great  deeds." 


20  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

As  Phemius  ended  his  story,  Odysseus,  who  had  been 
too  intent  upon  listening  to  look  around  him,  raised  his 
eyes  and  uttered  a  cry  of  joy;  for  he  saw  that  they  had 
left  the  open  sea  behind  them,  and  were  entering  the 
long  and  narrow  gulf  between  Achaia  and  the  ./Etolian 
land.  The  oarsmen,  who,  too,  had  been  earnest  listen- 
ers, sprang  quickly  to  their  places,  and  hastened  to  ply 
their  long  oars ;  for  now  the  breeze  had  begun  to 
slacken,  and  the  sail  hung  limp  and  useless  upon  the 
ship's  mast.  Keeping  close  to  the  northern  shore  they 
rounded  capes  and  headlands,  and  skirted  the  mouths 
of  deep  inlets,  where  Phemius  said  strange  monsters 
often  lurked  in  wait  for  unwary  or  belated  seafarers. 
But  they  passed  all  these  places  safely,  and  saw  no 
living  creature,  save  some  flocks  of  sea-birds  flying 
among  the  cliffs,  and  one  lone,  frightened  fisherman, 
who  left  his  net  upon  the  sands,  and  ran  to  hide  himself 
in  the  thickets  of  underbrush  which  skirted  the  beach. 

Late  in  the  day  they  came  to  the  mouth  of  a  little 
harbor  which,  like  one  in  Ithaca,  was  a  favored  haunt 
of  old  Phorcys  the  elder  of  the  sea.  Here  the  cap- 
tain of  the  oarsmen  said  they  must  tarry  for  the  night, 
for  the  sun  was  already  sinking  in  the  west,  and  after 
nightfall  no  ship  could  be  guided  with  safety  along 
these  shores.  A  narrow  strait  between  high  cliffs  led 
into  the  little  haven,  which  was  so  sheltered  from  the 
winds  that  vessels  could  ride  there  without  their  haw- 
sers, even  though  fierce  storms  might  rage  upon  the 
sea  outside.     Through  this  strait  the  ship  was  guided, 


A  Voyage  on  the  Sea.  21 

urged  by  the  strong  arms  of  the  rowers ;  and  so  swiftly 
did  it  glide  across  the  harbor  that  it  was  driven  upon 
the  shelving  beach  at  the  farther  side,  and  stopped  not 
until  it  lay  full  half  its  length  high  upon  the  warm,  dry 
sand. 

Then  the  crew  lifted  out  their  store  of  food,  and  their 
vessels  for  cooking ;  and  while  some  took  their  bows 
and  went  in  search  of  game,  others  kindled  a  fire,  and 
hastened  to  make  ready  the  evening  meal.  Odysseus 
and  his  tutor,  when  they  had  climbed  out  of  the  ship, 
sauntered  along  the  beach,  intent  to  know  what  kind 
of  place  it  was  to  which  fortune  had  thus  brought 
them.  They  found  that  it  was  in  all  things  a  pattern 
and  counterpart  of  the  little  bay  of  Phorcys  in  their 
own  Ithaca.' 

Near  the  head  of  the  harbor  grew  an  olive  tree,  be- 
neath whose  spreading  branches  there  was  a  cave,  in 
which,  men  said,  the  Naiads  sometimes  dwelt.  In  this 
cave  were  great  bowls  and  jars  and  two-eared  pitchers, 
all  of  stone ;  and  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock  the  wild  bees 
had  built  their  comb,  and  filled  it  with  yellow  honey. 
In  this  cave,  too,  were  long  looms  on  which,  from  their 
spindles  wrought  of  stone,  the  Naiads  were  thought  to 
weave  their  purple  robes.  Close  by  the  looms,  a  tor- 
rent of  sweet  water  gushed  from  the  rock,  and  flowed 
in  crystal  streams  down  into  the  bay.  Two  doorways 
opened  into  the  cave :  one  from  the  north,  through 
which  mortal  man  might  enter,  and  one  from  the  south, 

1  See  the  description  of  this  bay,  in  the  Odyssey,  Book  xiii.  1.  102. 


22  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

kept  as  the  pathway  of  Phorcys  and  the  Naiads.  But 
Odysseus  and  his  tutor  saw  no  signs  of  any  of  these 
beings :  it  seemed  as  if  the  place  had  not  been  visited 
for  many  a  month. 

After  the  voyagers  had  partaken  of  their  meal,  they 
sat  for  a  long  time  around  the  blazing  fire  upon  the 
beach,  and  each  told  some  marvellous  story  of  the  sea. 
For  their  thoughts  were  all  upon  the  wonders  of  the 
deep. 

"We  should  not  speak  of  Poseidon,  the  king  of 
waters,"  said  the  captain,  "save  with  fear  upon  our  lips, 
and  reverence  in  our  hearts.  For  he  it  is  who  rules  the 
sea,  as  his  brother  Zeus  controls  the  land  ;  and  no  one 
dares  to  dispute  his  right.  Once,  when  sailing  on  the 
^Egaean  Sea,  I  looked  down  into  the  depths,  and  saw  his 
lordly  palace,  —  a  glittering,  golden  mansion,  built  on 
the  rocks  at  the  bottom  of  the  mere.  Quickly  did  we 
spread  our  sails  aloft,  and  the  friendly  breezes  and  our 
own  strong  arms  hurried  us  safely  away  from  that 
wonderful  but  dangerous  station.  In  that  palace  of 
the  deep,  Poseidon  eats  and  drinks  and  makes  merry 
with  his  friends,  the  dwellers  in  the  sea ;  and  there  he 
feeds  and  trains  his  swift  horses,  —  horses  with  hoofs 
of  bronze  and  flowing  golden  manes.  And  when  he 
harnesses  these  steeds  to  his  chariot,  and  wields  above 
them  his  well-wrought  lash  of  gold,  you  should  see,  as 
I  have  seen,  how  he  rides  in  terrible  majesty  above  the 
waves.  And  the  creatures  of  the  sea  pilot  him  on  his 
way.  and  gambol  on  either  side  of  the  car,  and  follow 


A   Voyage  on  the  Sea.  23 

dancing  in  his  wake.  But  when  he  smites  the  waters 
with  the  trident  which  he  always  carries  in  his  hand, 
the  waves  roll  mountain  high,  the  lightnings  flash,  and 
the  thunders  peal,  and  the  earth  is  shaken  to  its  very 
core.  Then  it  is  that  man  bewails  his  own  weakness, 
and  prays  to  the  powers  above  for  help  and  succor." 

"  I  have  never  seen  the  palace  of  Poseidon,"  said  the 
helmsman,  speaking  slowly ;  "  but  once,  when  sailing  to 
far-off  Crete,  our  ship  was  overtaken  by  a  storm,  and 
for  ten  days  we  were  buffeted  by  winds  and  waves, 
and  driven  into  unknown  seas.  After  this,  we  vainly 
tried  to  find  again  our  reckonings,  but  we  knew  not 
which  way  to  turn  our  vessel's  prow.  Then,  when  the 
storm  had  ended,  we  saw  upon  a  sandy  islet  great 
/roops  of  seals  and  sea-calves  couched  upon  the  beach, 
and  basking  in  the  warm  rays  of  the  sun. 

" '  Let  us  cast  anchor,  and  wait  here,'  said  our  cap- 
tain ;  '  for  surely  Proteus,  the  old  man  of  the  sea  who 
keeps  Poseidon's  herds,  will  come  erewhile  to  look  after 
these  sea-beasts.' 

"  And  he  was  right ;  for  at  noonday  the  herdsman  of 
the  sea  came  up  out  of  the  brine,  and  went  among  his 
sea-calves,  and  counted  them,  and  called  each  one  by 
name.  When  he  was  sure  that  not  even  one  was  miss- 
ing, he  lay  down  among  them  upon  the  sand.  Then 
we  landed  quickly  from  our  vessel,  and  rushed  silently 
upon  him,  and  seized  him  with  our  hands.  The  old 
master  of  magic  tried  hard  to  escape  from  our  clutches, 
and  did  not  forget  his  cunning.     First  he  took  the  form 


24  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

of  a  long-maned  lion,  fierce  and  terrible  ;  but  when  this 
did  not  affright  us,  he  turned  into  a  scaly  serpent ;  then 
into  a  leopard,  spotted  and  beautiful ;  then  into  a  wild 
boar,  with  gnashing  tusks  and  foaming  mouth.  Seeing 
that  by  none  of  these  forms  he  could  make  us  loosen 
our  grasp  upon  him,  he  took  the  shape  of  running 
Water,  as  if  to  glide  through  our  fingers ;  then  he  be- 
came a  tall  tree  full  of  leaves  and  blossoms ;  and,  lastly, 
he  became  himself  again.  And  he  pleaded  with  us  for 
his  freedom,  and  promised  to  tell  us  any  thing  that  we 
desired,  if  we  would  only  let  him  go. 

"  *  Tell  us  which  way  we  shall  sail,  and  how  far  we 
shall  go,  that  we  may  surely  reach  the  fair  harbor  of 
Crete,'  said  our  captain. 

" '  Sail  with  the  wind  two  days,'  said  the  elder  of  the 
sea,  '  and  on  the  third  morning  ye  shall  behold  the  hills 
of  Crete,  and  the  pleasant  port  which  you  seek.' 

"  Then  we  loosened  our  hold  upon  him,  and  old  Pro- 
teus plunged  into  the  briny  deep  ;  and  we  betook  our- 
selves to  our  ship,  and  sailed  away  before  the  wind. 
And  on  the  third  day,  as  he  had  told  us,  we  sighted  the 
fair  harbor  of  Crete." 

As  the  helmsman  ended  his  story,  his  listeners 
smiled ;  for  he  had  told  them  nothing  but  an  old  tale, 
which  every  seaman  had  learned  in  his  youth,  —  the 
story  of  Proteus,  symbol  of  the  ever-changing  forms  of 
matter.  Just  then  Odysseus  heard  a  low,  plaintive 
murmur,  seeming  as  if  uttered  by  some  lost  wanderer 
away  out  upon  the  sea. 


A   Voyage  on  the  Sea.  25 


"  What  is  that  ? "  he  asked,  turning  towards  Phemius. 

"  It  is  Glaucus,  the  soothsayer  of  the  sea,  lamenting 
that  he  is  mortal,"  answered  the  bard.  "Long  time 
ago,  Glaucus  was  a  poor  fisherman  who  cast  his  nets 
into  these  very  waters,  and  built  his  hut  upon  the  .dEto- 
lian  shore,  not  very  far  from  the  place  where  we  now 
sit.  Before  his  hut  there  was  a  green,  grassy  spot, 
where  he  often  sat  to  dress  the  fish  which  he  caught. 
One  day  he  carried  a  basketful  of  half-dead  fish  to  that 
spot,  and  turned  them  out  upon  the  ground.  Wonder- 
ful to  behold  !  Each  fish  took  a  blade  of  grass  in  its 
mouth,  and  forthwith  jumped  into  the  sea.  The  next 
day  he  found  a  hare  in  the  woods,  and  gave  chase  to  it. 
The  frightened  creature  ran  straight  to  the  grassy  plat 
before  his  hut,  seized  a  green  spear  of  grass  between 
its  lips,  and  dashed  into  the  sea. 

"  '  Strange  what  kind  of  grass  that  is  ! '  cried  Glau- 
cus. Then  he  pulled  up  a  blade,  and  tasted  it.  Quick 
as  thought,  he  also  jumped  into  the  sea;  and  there  he 
wanders  evermore  among  the  seaweeds  and  the  sand 
and  the  pebbles  and  the  sunken  rocks  ;  and,  although 
he  has  the  gift  of  soothsaying,  and  can  tell  what  things 
are  in  store  for  mortal  men,  he  mourns  and  laments 
because  he  cannot  die." 

Then  Phemius,  seeing  that  Odysseus  grew  tired  of 
his  story,  took  up  his  harp,  and  touched  its  strings,  and 
sang  a  song  about  old  Phorcys, — the  son  of  the  Sea 
and  Mother  Earth,  —  and  about  his  strange  daughters 
who  dwell  in  regions  far  remote  from  the  homes  of  men. 


26  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

He  touched  his  harp  lightly,  and  sang  a  sweet  lullaby, 
—  a  song  about  the  Sirens,  the  fairest  of  all  the  daugh- 
ters of  old  Phorcys.  These  have  their  home  in  an 
enchanted  island  in  the  midst  of  the  western  sea ;  and 
they  sit  in  a  green  meadow  by  the  shore,  and  they 
sing  evermore  of  empty  pleasures  and  of  phantoms 
of  delight  and  of  vain  expectations.  And  woe  is 
the  wayfaring  man  who  hearkens  to  them !  for  by 
their  bewitching  tones  they  lure  him  to  his  death, 
and  never  again  shall  he  see  his  dear  wife  or  his 
babes,  who  wait  long  and  vainly  for  his  home-coming. 
Stop  thine  ears,  O  voyager  on  the  sea,  and  listen  not 
to  the  songs  of  the  Sirens,  sing  they  ever  so  sweetly ; 
for  the  white  flowers  which  dot  the  meadow  around 
them  are  not  daisies,  but  the  bleached  bones  of  their 
victims. 

Then  Phemius  smote  the  chords  of  his  harp,  and 
played  a  melody  so  weird  and  wild  that  Odysseus 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and  glanced  quickly  around  him,  as 
if  he  thought  to  see  some  grim  and  horrid  shape  threat- 
ening him  from  among  the  gathering  shadows.  And 
this  time  the  bard  sang  a  strange,  tumultuous  song, 
concerning  other  daughters  of  old  Phorcys, — the  three 
Gray  Sisters,  with  shape  of  swan,  who  have  but  one 
tooth  for  all,  and  one  common  eye,  and  who  sit  forever 
on  a  barren  rock  near  the  farthest  shore  of  Ocean's 
stream.  Upon  them  the  sun  doth  never  cast  a  beam, 
and  the  moon  doth  never  look  ;  but,  horrible  and  alone, 
they   sit   clothed   in  their  yellow   robes,    and   chatter 


A   Voyage  on  th^  £>ea.  27 

threats  and  meaningless  complaints  to  the  waves  which 
dash  against  their  rock. 

Not  far  away  from  these  monsters  once  sat  the  three 
Gorgons,  daughters  also  of  old  Phorcys.  These  were 
clothed  with  bat -like  wings,  and  horror  sat  upon  their 
faces.  They  had  ringlets  of  snakes  for  hair,  and  their 
teeth  were  like  the  tusks  of  swine,  and  their  hands  were 
talons  of  brass ;  and  no  mortal  could  ever  gaze  upon 
them  and  breathe  again.  But  there  came,  one  time,  a 
young  hero  to  those  regions,  —  Perseus  the  godlike  ; 
and  he  snatched  the  eye  of  the  three  Gray  Sisters,  and 
flung  it  far  into  the  depths  of  Lake  Tritonis  ;  and  he 
slew  Medusa,  the  most  fearful  of  the  Gorgons,  and  car- 
ried the  head  of  the  terror  back  to  Hellas  with  him  as 
a  trophy. 

The  bard  chose  next  a  gentler  theme  :  and,  as  he 
touched  his  harp,  the  listeners  fancied  that  they  heard 
the  soft  sighing  of  the  south  wind,  stirring  lazily  the 
leaves  and  blossoms  ;  they  heard  the  plashing  of  foun- 
tains, and  the  rippling  of  water-brooks,  and  the  songs 
of  little  birds ;  and  their  minds  were  carried  away  in 
memory  to  pleasant  gardens  in  a  summer  land.  And 
Phemius  sang  of  the  Hesperides,  or  the  maidens  of  the 
West,  who  also,  men  say,  are  the  daughters  of  Phorcys 
the  ancient.  The  Hesperian  land  in  which  they  dwell 
is  a  country  of  delight,  where  the  trees  are  laden  with 
golden  fruit,  and  every  day  is  a  sweet  dream  of  joy  and 
peace.  And  the  clear-voiced  Hesperides  sing  and  dance 
in  the  sunlight  always  ;  and  their  only  task  is  to  guard 


28  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

the  golden  apples  which  grow  there,  and  which  Mother 
Earth  gave  to  Here  the  queen  upon  her  wedding  day. 

Here  Phemius  paused.  Odysseus,  lulled  by  the  soft 
music,  and  overcome  by  weariness,  had  lain  down  upon 
the  sand  and  fallen  asleep.  At  a  sign  from  the  bard, 
the  seamen  lifted  him  gently  into  the  ship,  and,  cover- 
ing him  with  warm  skins,  they  left  him  to  slumber 
through  the  night. 


ADVENTURE  III. 


THE  CENTRE  OF  THE  EARTH. 

The  next  morning,  before  the  sun  had  risen,  the 
voyagers  launched  their  ship  again,  and  sailed  out  of 
the  little  harbor  into  the  long  bay  of  Crissa.  And 
Pallas  Athene  sent  the  west  wind  early,  to  help  them 
forward  on  their  way  ;  and  they  spread  their  sail,  and 
instead  of  longer  hugging  the  shore,  they  ventured 
boldly  out  into  the  middle  of  the  bay.  All  day  long 
the  ship  held  on  its  course,  skimming  swiftly  through 
the  waves  like  a  great  white-winged  bird ;  and  those 
on  board  beguiled  the  hours  with  song  and  story  as  on 
the  day  before.  But  when  the  evening  came,  they 
were  far  from  land ;  and  the  captain  said  that  as  the 
water  was  deep,  and  he  knew  the  sea  quite  well,  they 
would  not  put  into  port,  but  would  sail  straight  on  all 
night.  And  so,  when  the  sun  had  gone  down,  and  the 
moon  had  risen,  flooding  earth  and  sea  with  her  pure, 
soft  light,  Odysseus  wrapped  his  warm  cloak  about 
him,  and  lay  down  again  to  rest  upon  his  bed  of  skins 
between  the  rowers'  benches.  But  the  helmsman  stood 
at  his  place,  and  guided  the  vessel  over  the  shadowy 

29 


30  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

waves ;  and  through  the  watches  of  the  night  the 
west  wind  filled  the  sails,  and  the  dark  keel  of  the  little 
bark  ploughed  the  waters,  and  Pallas  Athene  blessed 
the  voyage. 

When,  at  langth,  the  third  morning  came,  and  Helios 
arose  at  summons  of  the  Dawn,  Odysseus  awoke.  To 
his  great  surprise,  he  heard  no  longer  the  rippling  of 
the  waves  upon  the  vessel's  sides,  nor  the  flapping 
of  the  sail  in  the  wind,  nor  yet  the  rhythmic  dipping  of 
the  oars  into  the  sea.  He  listened,  and  the  sound 
of  merry  laughter  came  to  his  ears,  and  he  heard  the 
twittering  of  many  birds,  and  the  far-away  bleating  of 
little  lambs.  He  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  sat  up,  and 
looked  about  him.  The  ship  was  no  longer  floating  on 
the  water,  but  had  been  drawn  high  up  on  a  sandy 
beach ;  and  the  crew  were  sitting  beneath  an  olive 
tree,  at  no  great  distance  from  the  shore,  listening  to 
the  melodies  with  which  a  strangely-garbed  shepherd 
welcomed  on  his  flute  the  coming  of  another  day. 

Odysseus  arose  quickly  and  leaped  out  upon  the 
beach.  Then  it  was  that  a  scene  of  beauty  and  quiet 
grandeur  met  his  gaze,  —  a  scene,  the  like  of  which  had 
never  entered  his  thoughts  nor  visited  his  dreams.  He 
saw,  a  few  miles  to  the  northward,  a  group  of  high 
mountains  whose  summits  towered  above  the  clouds ; 
and  highest  among  them  all  were  twin  peaks  whose 
snow-crowned  tops  seemed  but  little  lower  than  the 
skies  themselves.  And  as  the  light  of  the  newly  risen 
sun  gilded  the  gray  crags,  and  painted  the  rocky  slop©*, 


The   Centre  of  the  Earth.  3 1 

and  shone  bright  among  the  wooded  uplands,  the  whole 
scene  appeared  like  a  living  picture,  glorious  with  purple 
and  gold  and  azure,  and  brilliant  with  sparkling  gems. 

"  Is  it  not  truly  a  fitting  place  for  the  home  of  beauty 
and  music,  the  dwelling  of  Apollo,  and  the  favored 
haunt  of  the  Muses  ? "  asked  Phemius,  drawing  near, 
and  observing  the  boy's  wondering  delight. 

"Indeed  it  is,"  said  Odysseus,  afraid  to  turn  his  eyes 
away,  lest  the  enchanting  vision  should  vanish  like  a 
dream.  "  But  is  that  mountain  really  Parnassus,  and 
is  our  journey  so  nearly  at  an  end  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  bard,  "  that  peak  which  towers 
highest  toward  the  sky  is  great  Parnassus,  the  centre 
of  the  earth ;  and  in  the  rocky  cleft  which  you  can 
barely  see  between  the  twin  mountains,  stands  sacred 
Delphi  and  the  favored  temple  of  Apollo.  Lower  down, 
and  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain,  is  the  white- 
hailed  dwelling  of  old  Autolycus,  your  mother's  father. 
Although  the  mountain  seems  so  near,  it  is  yet  a  long 
and  toilsome  journey  thither,  —  a  journey  which  we 
must  make  on  foot,  and  by  pathways  none  the  safest. 
Come,  let  us  join  the  sailors  under  the  olive  tree ;  and 
when  we  have  breakfasted,  we  will  begin  our  journey 
to  Parnassus." 

The  strange  shepherd  had  killed  the  fattest  sheep 
of  his  flock,  and  had  roasted  the  choicest  parts  upon 
a  bed  of  burning  coals  ;  and  when  Odysseus  and  his 
tutor  came  to  the  olive  tree,  they  found  a  breakfast  fit 
indeed  for  kings,  set  out  ready  before  them. 


32  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"Welcome,  noble  strangers,"  said  the  shepherd; 
"welcome  to  the  land  most  loved  of  the  Muses.  I 
give  you  of  the  best  of  all  that  I  have,  and  I  am  ready 
to  serve  you  and  do  your  bidding." 

Phemius  thanked  the  shepherd  for  his  kindness ;  and 
while  they  sat  upon  the  grass,  and  ate  of  the  pleasant 
food  which  had  been  provided,  he  asked  the  simple 
swain  many  questions  about  Parnassus. 

"  I  have  heard  that  Parnassus  is  the  hub  around  which 
the  great  earth-wheel  is  built.     Is  it  really  true  ? " 

"  A  long,  long  time  ago,"  answered  the  man,  "  there 
were  neither  any  shepherds  nor  sheep  in  Hellas,  and 
not  even  the  gods  knew  where  the  centre  of  the  earth 
had  been  put.  Some  said  that  it  was  at  Mount  Olym- 
pus, where  Zeus  sits  in  his  great  house  with  all  the 
deathless  ones  around  him.  Others  said  that  it  was 
in  Achaia ;  and  others  still,  in  Arcadia,  now  the  land 
of  shepherds ;  and  some,  who,  it  seems  to  me,  had  lost 
their  wits,  said  that  it  was  not  in  Hellas  at  all,  but  in 
a  strange  land  beyond  the  western  sea.  In  order  that 
he  might  know  the  truth,  great  Zeus  one  day  took  two 
eagles,  both  of  the  same  strength  and  swiftness,  and 
said,  'These  birds  shall  tell  us  what  even  the  gods 
do  not  know.'  Then  he  carried  one  of  the  eagles  to 
the  far  east,  where  the  Dawn  rises  out  of  Ocean's 
bed ;  and  he  carried  the  other  to  the  far  west  where 
Helios  and  his  sun-car  sink  into  the  waves  ;  and  he 
clapped  his  hands  together,  and  the  thunder  rolled,  and 
the  swift  birds  flew  at  the  same  moment  to  meet  each 


The   Centre  of  the  Earth.  33 

other ;  and  right  above  the  spot  where  Delphi  stands, 
they  came  together,  beak  to  beak,  and  both  fell  dead 
to  the  ground.  '  Behold !  there  is  the  centre  of  the 
earth,'  said  Zeus.  And  all  the  gods  agreed  that  he 
was  right." 

"Do  you  know  the  best  and  shortest  road  to  Delphi?" 
asked  Phemius. 

"No  one  knows  it  better  than  I,"  was  the  answer. 
"When  I  was  a  boy  I  fed  my  sheep  at  the  foot  of 
Parnassus ;  and  my  father  and  grandfather  lived  there, 
long  before  the  town  of  Delphi  was  built,  or  there  was 
any  temple  there  for  Apollo.  Shall  I  tell  you  how  men 
came  to  build  a  temple  at  that  spot  ? " 

"  Yes,  tell  us,"  said  Odysseus.  "  I  am  anxious  to 
know  all  about  it." 

"You  must  not  repeat  my  story  to  the  priests  at 
Delphi,"  said  the  shepherd,  speaking  now  in  a  lower 
tone.  "  For  they  have  quite  a  different  way  of  telling 
it,  and  they  would  say  that  I  have  spoken  lightly  of 
sacred  things.  There  was  a  time  when  only  shepherds 
lived  on  the  mountain  slopes,  and  there  were  neither 
priests  nor  warriors  nor  robbers  in  all  this  land.  My 
grandfather  was  one  of  those  happy  shepherds  ;  and  he 
often  pastured  his  flocks  on  the  broad  terrace  where  the 
town  ot  Delphi  now  stands,  and  where  the  two  eagles, 
which  I  have  told  you  about,  fell  to  the  ground.  One 
day,  a  strange  thing  happened  to  him.  A  goat  which 
was  nibbling  the  grass  from  the  sides  of  a  little  crevice 
in  the  rock,  fell  into  a  fit,  and  lay  bleating  and  helpless 


34  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

upon  the  ground.  My  grandfather  ran  to  help  the 
beast ;  but  as  he  stooped  down,  he  too  fell  into  a  fit, 
and  he  saw  strange  visions,  and  spoke  prophetic  words. 
Some  other  shepherds  who  were  passing  by  saw  his 
plight,  and  lifted  him  up ;  and  as  soon  as  he  breathed 
the  fresh  air,  he  was  himself  again. 

"Often  after  this,  the  same  thing  happened  to  my 
grandfather's  goats ;  and  when  he  had  looked  carefully 
into  the  matter,  he  found  that  a  warm,  stifling  vapo, 
issued  at  times  from  the  crevice,  and  that  it  was  the 
breathing  of  this  vapor  which  had  caused  his  goats  and 
even  himself  to  lose  their  senses.  T^en  other  men 
came ;  and  the}  learned  that  by  sitting  close  to  the 
crevice,  and  inhaling  its  vapor,  they  gained  the  power 
to  foresee  things,  and  the  gift  of  prophecy  came  to 
them.  And  so  they  set  a  tripod  over  the  crevice  for  a 
seat,  and  they  built  a  temple  —  small  at  first  —  over  the 
tripod ;  and  they  sent  for  the  wisest  maidens  in  the 
land  to  come  and  sit  upon  the  tripod  and  breathe 
the  strange  vapor,  so  that  they  could  tell  what  was 
otherwise  hidden  from  human  knowledge.  Some  say 
that  the  vapor  is  the  breath  of  a  python,  or  great  ser- 
pent ;  and  they  call  the  priestess  who  sits  upon  the 
tripod  Pythia.     But  I  know  nothing  about  that." 

"Are  you  sure,"  asked  Phemius,  "that  it  was  your 
grandfather  who  first  found  that  crevice  in  the  rock  ?  " 

"I  am  not  quite  sure,"  said  the  shepherd.  "But  I 
heard  the  story  when  I  was  a  little  child,  and  I  know 
that  it  was  either  my  grandfather  or  my  grandfather's 


The  Centre  of  the  Earth.  35 

grandfather.  At  any  rate,  it  all  happened  many,  many 
years  ago." 

By  this  time  they  had  finished  their  meal ;  and  after 
they  had  given  thanks  to  the  powers  who  had  thus  far 
kindly  prospered  them,  they  hastened  to  renew  their 
journey.  Two  of  the  oarsmen,  who  were  landsmen  as 
well  as  seamen,  were  to  go  with  them  to  carry  their 
luggage  and  the  little  presents  which  Laertes  had  sent 
to  the  priests  at  Delphi.  The  shepherd  was  to  be  their 
guide ;  and  a  second  shepherd  was  to  keep  them  com- 
pany, so  as  to  help  them  in  case  of  need. 

The  sun  was  high  over  their  heads  when  they  were 
ready  to  begin  their  long  and  toilsome  walk.  The  road 
at  first  was  smooth  and  easy,  wind;ng  through  meadows 
and  orchards  and  shady  pastures  But  very  soon  the 
way  became  steep  and  uneven,  and  the  olive  trees  gave 
place  to  pines,  and  the  meadows  to  barren  rocks.  The 
little  company  toiled  bravely  onward,  however,  the  two 
shepherds  leading  the  way  and  cheering  them  with 
pleasant  melodies  on  their  flutes,  while  the  two  sailors 
with  their  heavy  loads  followed  in  the  rear. 

It  was  quite  late  in  the  day  v^en  they  reached  the 
sacred  town  of  Delphi,  nestling  in  the  very  bosom  of 
Parnassus.  The  mighty  mountain  wall  now  rose  straight 
up  before  them,  seeming  to  reach  even  to  the  clouds. 
The  priests  who  kept  the  temple  met  them  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town,  and  kindly  welcomed  them  for  the 
sake  of  King  Laertes,  whom  tiey  knew  and  had  seen  ; 
and  they  besought  the  wayfarers  to  abide  for  some  tim* 


36  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

in  Delphi.  Nor,  indeed,  would  Phemius  have  thought 
of  going  farther  until  he  had  prayed  to  bright  Apollo, 
and  offered  rich  gifts  at  his  shrine,  and  questioned  the 
Pythian  priestess  about  the  unknown  future. 

And  so  Odysseus  and  his  tutor  became  the  honored 
guests  of  the  Delphian  folk  ;  and  they  felt  that  surely 
they  were  now  at  the  very  centre  of  the  world.  Their 
hosts  dealt  so  kindly  with  them,  that  a  whole  month 
passed,  and  still  they  were  in  Delphi.  And  as  they 
talked  with  the  priests  in  the  temple,  or  listened  to  the 
music  of  the  mountain  nymphs,  or  drank  sweet  draughts 
of  wisdom  from  the  Castalian  spring,  they  every  day 
found  it  harder  and  harder  to  tear  themselves  away 
from  the  delightful  place 


ADVENTURE  IV. 


THE   SILVER-BOWED   APOLLO. 

One  morning  Odysseus  sat  in  the  shadow  of  Parnas- 
sus with  one  of  the  priests  of  Apollo,  and  they  talked 
of  many  wonderful  things  ;  and  the  boy  began  to  think 
to  himself  that  there  was  more  wisdom  in  the  words  of 
his  companion  than  in  all  the  waters  of  the  Castalian 
spring.  He  could  see,  from  where  he  sat,  the  stream 
of  that  far-famed  fountain,  flowing  out  of  the  rocks  be- 
tween two  cliffs,  and  falling  in  sparkling  cascades  down 
the  steep  slopes. 

"  Men  think  that  they  gain  wisdom  by  drinking  from 
that  spring,"  said  he  to  the  priest ;  "  but  I  think  that 
they  gain  it  in  quite  another  way.  They  drink  of  its 
waters  every  day ;  but  while  they  drink,  they  listen  to 
the  wonderful  words  which  fall  from  your  lips,  and  they 
become  wise  by  hearing,  and  not  by  drinking." 

The  old  priest  smiled  at  the  shrewdness  of  the  boy. 
"  Let  them  think  as  they  please,"  said  he.  "  In  any 
case,  their  wisdom  would  come  hard,  and  be  of  little 
use,  if  it  were  not  for  the  silver-bowed  Apollo." 

"Tell  me  about  Apollo,"  said  Odysseus. 

37 


38  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

The  priest  could  not  have  been  better  pleased.  He 
moved  his  seat,  so  that  he  could  look  the  boy  full  in  the 
face,  and  at  the  same  time  have  the  temple  before  him, 
and  then  he  began  :  — 

"A  very  long  time  ago,  Apollo  was  born  in  distant 
Delos.  And  when  the  glad  news  of  his  birth  was  told, 
Earth  smiled,  and  decked  herself  with  flowers ;  the 
nymphs  of  Delos  sang  songs  of  joy  that  were  heard 
to  the  utmost  bounds  of  Hellas  ;  and  choirs  of  white 
swans  flew  seven  times  around  the  island,  piping  notes 
of  praise  to  the  pure  being  who  had  come  to  dwell 
among  men.  Then  Zeus  looked  down  from  high  Olym- 
pus, and  crowned  the  babe  with  a  golden  head-band, 
and  put  into  his  hands  a  silver  bow  and  a  sweet-toned 
lyre  such  as  no  man  had  ever  seen ;  and  he  gave  him  a 
team  of  white  swans  to  drive,  and  bade  him  go  forth  to 
teach  men  the  things  which  are  right  and  good,  and 
to  make  light  that  which  is  hidden  and  in  darkness. 

"And  so  Apollo  arose,  beautiful  as  the  morning  sun, 
and  journeyed  through  many  lands,  seeking  a  dwelling- 
place.  He  stopped  for  a  time  at  the  foot  of  Mount 
Olympus,  and  played  so  sweetly  upon  his  lyre  that  Zeus 
and  all  his  court  were  entranced.  Then  he  went  into 
Pieria  and  Iolcos,  and  he  wandered  up  and  down  through 
the  whole  length  of  the  Thessalian  land  ;  but  nowhere 
could  he  find  a  spot  in  which  he  was  willing  to  dwell. 
Then  he  climbed  into  his  car,  and  bade  his  swan-team 
fly  with  him  to  the  country  of  the  Hyperboreans  beyond 


The  Silver- Bowed  Apollo.  39 

the  far-off  northern  mountains.  Forthwith  they  obeyed ; 
and  through  the  pure  regions  of  the  upper  air  they  bore 
him,  winging  their  way  ever  northward.  They  carried 
him  over  the  desert  flats  where  the  shepherd  folk  of 
Scythia  dwell  in  houses  of  wicker-work  perched  on  well- 
wheeled  wagons,  and  daily  drive  their  flocks  and  herds 
to  fresher  pastures.  They  carried  him  over  that  un- 
known land  where  the  Arimaspian  host  of  one-eyed 
horsemen  dwell  beside  a  river  running  bright  with  gold  ; 
and  on  the  seventh  day  they  came  to  the  great  Rhi- 
paean  Mountains  where  the  griffins,  with  lion  bodies  and 
eagle  wings,  guard  the  golden  treasures  of  the  North. 
In  these  mountains,  the  North  Wind  has  his  home  ;  and 
from  his  deep  caves  he  now  and  then  comes  forth,  chill- 
ing with  his  cold  and  angry  breath  the  orchards  and  the 
fair  fields  of  Hellas,  and  bringing  death  and  dire  disas- 
ters in  his  train.  But  northward  this  blustering  Boreas 
cannot  blow,  for  the  heaven-towering  mountains  stand 
like  a  wall  against  him,  and  drive  him  back ;  and  hence 
it  is  that  beyond  these  mountains  the  storms  of  winter 
never  come,  but  one  happy  springtime  runs  through 
all  the  year.  There  the  flowers  bloom,  and  the  grain 
ripens,  and  the  fruits  drop  mellowing  to  the  earth,  and 
the  red  wine  is  pressed  from  the  luscious  grape,  every 
day  the  same.  And  the  Hyperboreans  who  dwell  in 
that  favored  land  know  neither  pain  nor  sickness,  nor 
wearying  labor  nor  eating  care ;  but  their  youth  is  as 
unfading  as  the  springtime,  and  old  age  with  its  wrin- 
kles and  its  sorrows  is  evermore  a  stranger  to  them. 


40  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

For  the  spirit  of  evil,  which  leads  all  men  to  err, 
has  never  found  entrance  among  them,  and  they  are 
free  from  vile  passions  and  unworthy  thoughts ;  and 
among  them  there  is  neither  war,  nor  wicked  deeds, 
nor  fear  of  the  avenging  Furies,  for  their  hearts  are 
pure  and  clean,  and  never  burdened  with  the  love  of 
self. 

"When  the  swan-team  of  silver-bowed  Apollo  had 
carried  him  over  the  Rhipaean  Mountains,  they  alighted 
in  the  Hyperborean  land.  And  the  people  welcomed 
Apollo  with  shouts  of  joy  and  songs  of  triumph,  as  one 
for  whom  they  had  long  been  waiting.  And  he  took  up 
his  abode  there,  and  dwelt  with  them  one  whole  year, 
delighting  them  with  his  presence,  and  ruling  over  them 
as  their  king.  But  when  twelve  moons  had  passed,  he 
bethought  him  that  the  toiling,  suffering  men  of  Hellas 
needed  most  his  aid  and  care.  Therefore  he  bade  the 
Hyperboreans  farewell,  and  again  went  up  into  his 
sun-bright  car  ;  and  his  winged  team  carried  him  back 
to  the  land  of  his  birth. 

"  Long  time  Apollo  sought  a  place  where  he  might 
build  a  temple  to  which  men  might  come  to  learn  of 
him  and  to  seek  his  help  in  time  of  need.  At  length 
he  came  to  the  plain  of  fair  Tilphussa,  by  the  shore  of 
Lake  Copais  ;  and  there  he  began  to  build  a  house,  for 
the  land  was  a  pleasant  one,  well-watered,  and  rich  in 
grain  and  fruit.  But  the  nymph  Tilphussa  liked  not 
to  have  Apollo  dwell  so  near  her,  lest  men  seeing  and 
loving  him  should  forget  to  honor  her ;  and  one  day 


The  Silver -Bowed  Apollo.  41 

garmented  with  mosses  and  crowned  with  lilies,  she 
came  and  stood  before  him  in  the  sunlight. 

" '  Apollo  of  the  silver  bow,'  said  she,  '  have  you  not 
made  a  mistake  in  choosing  this  place  for  a  dwelling  ? 
These  rich  plains  around  us  will  not  always  be  as 
peaceful  as  now ;  for  their  very  richness  will  tempt  the 
spoiler,  and  the  song  of  the  cicada  will  then  give  place 
to  the  din  of  battle.  Even  in  times  of  peace,  you  would 
hardly  have  a  quiet  hour  here  :  for  great  herds  of  cattle 
come  crowding  down  every  day  to  my  lake  for  water ; 
and  the  noisy  ploughman,  driving  his  team  afield,  dis- 
turbs the  morning  hour  with  his  boorish  shouts ;  and 
boys  and  dogs  keep  up  a  constant  din,  and  make  life 
in  this  place  a  burden.' 

" '  Fair  Tilphussa,'  said  Apollo,  '  I  had  hoped  to 
dwell  here  in  thy  happy  vale,  a  neighbor  and  friend 
to  thee.  Yet,  since  this  place  is  not  what  it  seems  to 
be,  whither  shall  I  go,  and  where  shall  I  build  my 
house  ? " 

" '  Go  to  the  cleft  in  Parnassus  where  the  swift  eagles 
of  Zeus  met  above  the  earth's  centre,'  answered  the 
nymph.  '  There  thou  canst  dwell  in  peace,  and  men 
will  come  from  all  parts  of  the  world  to  do  thee  honor.' 

"And  so  Apollo  came  down  towards  Crissa,  and  here 
in  the  cleft  of  the  mountain  he  laid  the  foundations 
of  his  shrine.  Then  he  called  the  master-architects  of 
the  world,  Trophonius  and  Agamedes,  and  gave  to  them 
the  building  of  the  high  walls  and  the  massive  roof. 
And  when  they  had  finished  their  work,  he  said,  '  Say 


42  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

now  what  reward  you  most  desire  for  your  labor,  and 
I  will  give  it  you.' 

"'Give  us,'  said  the  brothers,  'that  which  is  the 
best  for  men.' 

" '  It  is  well,'  answered  Apollo.  'When  the  full  moon 
is  seen  above  the  mountain-tops,  you  shall  have  your 
wish.' 

"  But  when  the  moon  rose  full  and  clear  above  the 
heights,  the  two  brothers  were  dead. 

"And  Apollo  was  pleased  with  the  place  which  he  had 
chosen  for  a  home  ;  for  here  were  peace  and  quiet,  and 
neither  the  hum  of  labor  nor  the  din  of  battle  would 
be  likely  ever  to  enter.  Yet  there  was  one  thing  to  be 
done  before  he  could  have  perfect  rest.  There  lived 
near  the  foot  of  the  mountain  a  huge  serpent  called 
Python,  which  was  the  terror  of  all  the  land.  Often- 
times,  coming  out  of  his  den,  this  monster  attacked  the 
flocks  and  herds,  and  sometimes  even  their  keepers ; 
and  he  had  been  known  to  carry  little  children  and 
helpless  women  to  his  den,  and  there  devour  them. 

"The  men  of  Delphi  came  one  day  to  Apollo,  and 
prayed  him  to  drive  out  or  destroy  their  terrible  enemy. 
So,  taking  in  hand  his  silver  bow,  he  sallied  out  at 
break  of  day  to  meet  the  monster  when  he  shou'd  issue 
from  his  slimy  cave.  The  vile  creature  shrank  back 
when  he  saw  the  radiant  god  before  him,  and  would 
fain  have  hidden  himself  in  the  deep  gorges  of  the 
mountain.  But  Apollo  quickly  launched  a  swift  arrow 
at  him,  crying,  '  Thou  bane  of  man,  lie  thou  upon  the 


APOLLO    SLAYING    THE    PYTHON. 


The  Silver-Bowed  Apollo.  43 

earth,  and  enrich  it  with  thy  dead  body ! '  And  the 
never-erring  arrow  sped  to  the  mark ;  and  the  great 
beast  died,  wallowing  in  his  gore.  And  the  people  in 
their  joy  came  out  to  meet  the  archer,  singing  paeans 
\in  his  praise  ;  and  they  crowned  him  with  wild  flowers 
and  wreaths  of  olives,  and  hailed  him  as  the  Pythian 
king ;  and  the  nightingales  sang  to  him  in  the  groves, 
and  the  swallows  and  cicadas  twittered  and  tuned 
their  melodies  in  harmony  with  his  lyre.1 

"But  as  yet  there  were  no  priests  in  Apollo's  temple; 
and  he  pondered,  long  doubting,  as  to  whom  he  should 
choose.  One  day  he  stood  upon  the  mountain's  top- 
most peak,  whence  he  could  see  all  Hellas  and  the  seas 
around  it.  Far  away  in  the  south,  he  spied  a  little  ship 
sailing  from  Crete  to  sandy  Pylos  ;  and  the  men  who 
were  on  board  were  Cretan  merchants. 

" '  These  men  shall  serve  in  my  temple  ! '  he  cried. 

"Upward  he  sprang,  and  high  he  soared  above  the 
sea ;  then  swiftly  descending  like  a  fiery  star,  he 
plunged  into  the  waves.  There  he  changed  himself 
into  the  form  of  a  dolphin,  and  swam  with  speed  to 
overtake  the  vessel.  Long  before  the  ship  had  reached 
Pylos,  the  mighty  fish  came  up  with  it,  and  struck  its 
stern.  The  crew  were  dumb  with  terror,  and  sat  still 
in  their  places;  their  oars  were  motionless;  the  sail 
hung  limp  and  useless  from  the  mast.  Yet  the  vessel 
sped  through  the  waves  with  the  speed  of  the  wind, 
for  the  dolphin  was  driving  it  forward  by  the  force  of 

1  See  Note  2  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


44  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

—  .■■■-■-  -  -        . .  ...  — i  —  i.  ■  ■  — .— ...  .i  ■■  .    — — ^— 

his  fins.  Past  many  a  headland,  past  Pylos  and  many 
pleasant  harbors,  they  hastened.  Vainly  did  the  pilot 
try  to  land  at  Cyparissa  and  at  Cyllene  :  the  ship  would 
not  obey  her  helm.  They  rounded  the  headland  of 
Araxus,  and  came  into  the  long  bay  of  Crissa ;  and 
there  the  dolphin  left  off  guiding  the  vessel,  and  swam 
playfully  around  it,  while  a  brisk  west  wind  filled  the 
sail,  and  bore  the  voyagers  safely  into  port. 

"Then  the  dolphin  changed  into  the  form  of  a  glowing 
star,  which,  shooting  high  into  the  heavens,  lit  up  the 
whole  world  with  its  glory;  and  as  the  awe-stricken 
crew  stood  gazing  at  the  wonder,  it  fell  with  the  quick- 
ness of  light  upon  Parnassus.  Into  his  temple  Apollo 
hastened,  and  there  he  kindled  an  undying  fire.  Then, 
in  the  form  of  a  handsome  youth,  with  golden  hair  fall 
ing  in  waves  upon  his  shoulders,  he  hastened  to  the 
beach  to  welcome  the  Cretan  strangers. 

"  '  Hail,  seamen ! '  he  cried.  '  Who  are  you,  and  from 
whence  do  you  come  ?  Shall  I  greet  you  as  friends 
and  guests,  or  shall  I  know  you  as  robbers  bringing 
death  and  distress  to  many  a  fair  home  ? ' 

"Then  answered  the  Cretan  captain,  '  Fair  stranger, 
the  gods  have  brought  us  hither ;  for  by  no  wish  of  our 
own  have  we  come.  We  are  Cretan  merchants,  and  we 
were  on  our  way  to  sandy  Pylos  with  stores  of  mer- 
chandise, to  barter  with  the  tradesmen  of  that  city. 
But  some  unknown  being,  whose  might  is  greater  than 
the  might  of  men,  has  carried  us  far  beyond  our  wished- 
for  port,  even  to  this  unknown  shore.     Tell  us  now,  we 


The  Silver-Bowed  Apollo.  45 

pray  thee,  what  land  is  this  ?  And  who  art  thou  who 
lookest  so  like  a  god  ? ' 

" '  Friends  and  guests,  for  such  indeed  you  must  be,* 
answered  the  radiant  youth,  '  think  never  again  of  sail- 
ing upon  the  wine-faced  sea,  but  draw  now  your  vessel 
high  up  on  the  beach.  And  when  you  have  brought 
out  all  your  goods,  and  built  an  altar  upon  the  shore, 
take  of  your  white  barley  which  you  have  with  you,  and 
offer  it  reverently  to  Phcebus  Apollo.  For  I  am  he ; 
and  it  was  I  who  brought  you  hither,  so  that  you  might 
keep  my  temple,  and  make  known  my  wishes  unto  men. 
And  since  it  was  in  the  form  of  a  dolphin  that  you  first 
saw  me,  let  the  town  which  stands  around  my  temple 
be  known  as  Delphi,  and  let  men  worship  me  there  as 
Apollo  Delphinius.' 

"  Then  the  Cretans  did  as  he  had  bidden  them  :  they 
drew  their  vessel  high  up  on  the  white  beach,  and 
when  they  had  unladen  it  of  their  goods,  they  built  an 
altar  on  the  shore,  and  offered  white  barley  to  Phoebus 
Apollo,  and  gave  thanks  to  the  ever-living  powers  who 
had  saved  them  from  the  terrors  of  the  deep.  And 
after  they  had  feasted,  and  rested  from  their  long 
voyage,  they  turned  their  faces  toward  Parnassus  ;  and 
Apollo,  playing  sweeter  music  than  men  had  ever 
heard,  led  the  way ;  and  the  folk  of  Delphi,  with  choirs 
of  boys  and  maidens,  came  to  meet  them,  and  they 
sang  a  paean  and  songs  of  victory  as  they  helped 
the  Cretans  up  the  steep  pathway  to  the  cleft  oi 
Parnassus. 


46  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

, 0 

" '  I  leave  you  now  to  have  sole  care  of  my  temple,' 
aaid  Apollo.  '  I  charge  you  to  keep  it  well ;  deal  right- 
eously with  all  men ;  let  no  unclean  thing  pass  your 
lips ;  forget  self ;  guard  well  your  thoughts,  and  keep 
your  hearts  free  from  guile.  If  you  do  these  things, 
you  shall  be  blessed  with  length  of  days  and  all  that 
makes  life  glad.  But  if  you  forget  my  words;  and  deal 
treacherously  with  men,  and  cause  any  to  wander  from 
the  path  of  right,  then  shall  you  be  driven  forth  home- 
less and  accursed,  and  others  shall  take  your  places  in 
the  service  of  my  house.' 

"And  then  the  bright  youth  left  them  and  hastened 
away  into  Thessaly  and  to  Mount  Olympus.  But  every 
year  he  comes  again,  and  looks  into  his  house,  and 
speaks  words  of  warning  and  of  hope  to  his  servants  ; 
and  often  men  have  seen  him  on  Parnassus,  playing  his 
lyre  to  the  listening  Muses,  or  with  his  sister,  arrow- 
loving  Artemis,  chasing  the  mountain  deer." 

Such  was  the  story  which  the  old  priest  related  to 
Odysseus,  sitting  in  the  shadow  of  the  mountain ;  and 
the  boy  listened  with  eyes  wide  open  and  full  of  won- 
der, half  expecting  to  see  the  golden-haired  Apollo 
standing  by  his  side. 


ADVENTURE    K 


THE   KING   OF  CATTLE  THIEVES. 

Odysseus  and  his  tutor  tarried,  as  I  have  told  you,  a 
whole  month  at  Delphi ;  for  Phemius  would  not  venture 
farther  on  their  journey  until  the  Pythian  oracle  should 
tell  him  how  it  would  end.  In  the  mean  while  many 
strangers  were  daily  coming  from  all  parts  of  Hellas, 
bringing  rich  gifts  for  Apollo's  temple,  and  seeking 
advice  from  the  Pythia.  From  these  strangers  Odys- 
seus learned  many  things  concerning  lands  and  places 
of  which  he  never  before  had  heard ;  and  nothing 
pleased  him  better  than  to  listen  to  the  marvellous 
tales  which  each  man  told  about  his  own  home  and 
people. 

One  day  as  he  was  walking  towards  the  spring  of 
Castalia,  an  old  man,  who  had  come  from  Corinth  to 
ask  questions  of  the  Pythia,  met  him,  and  stopped 
to  talk  with  him. 

"Young  prince,"  said  the  old  man,  "what  business 
can  bring  one  so  young  as  you  to  this  place  sacred  to 
Apollo  ? " 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  visit  my  grandfather,"   said 

At 


48  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

Odysseus,  "and  I  have  stopped  here  for  a  few  days 
while  my  tutor  consults  the  oracle." 

"  Your  grandfather !  And  who  is  your  grandfather  ? " 
asked  the  old  man. 

"  The  great  chief  Autolycus,  whose  halls  are  on  the 
other  side  of  Parnassus,"  answered  Odysseus. 

The  old  man  drew  a  long  breath,  and  after  a 
moment's  silence  said,  "  Perhaps,  then,  you  are  going 
to  help  your  grandfather  take  care  of  his  neighbors' 
cattle." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,"  answered  Odysseus, 
startled  by  the  tone  in  which  the  stranger  spoke  these 
words. 

"  I  mean  that  your  grandfather,  who  is  the  most 
cunning  of  men,  will  expect  to  teach  you  his  trade," 
said  the  man,  with  a  strange  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  My  grandfather  is  a  chieftain  and  a  hero,"  said  the 
boy.     "What  trade  has  he  ? " 

"You  pretend  not  to  know  that  he  is  a  cattle- 
dealer,"  answered  the  old  man,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders. "  Why,  all  Hellas  has  known  him  these  hundred 
years  as  the  King  of  Cattle  Thieves  !  But  he  is  very 
old  now,  and  the  herdsmen  and  shepherds  have  little 
to  fear  from  him  any  more.  Yet,  mind  my  words, 
young  prince  :  it  does  not  require  the  wisdom  of  the 
Pythian  oracle  to  foretell  that  you,  his  grandson,  will 
become  the  craftiest  of  men.  With  Autolycus  for 
your  grandfather  and  Hermes  for  your  great-grand- 
father, it  would  be  hard  indeed  for  you  to  be  otherwise.'" 


The  King  of  Cattle  Thieves.  49 

At  this  moment  the  bard  Phemius  came  up,  and  the 
old  man  walked  quickly  away. 

"What  does  he  mean  ?"  asked  Odysseus,  turning  to 
his  tutor.  "  What  does  he  mean  by  saying  that  my 
grandfather  is  the  king  of  cattle  thieves,  and  by  speak* 
ing  of  Hermes  as  my  great-grandfather  ?  " 

"  They  tell  strange  tales  about  Autolycus,  the  moun- 
tain chief,"  Phemius  answered ;  "  but  whether  their 
stories  be  true  or  false,  I  cannot  say.  The  old  man 
who  was  talking  to  you  is  from  Corinth,  where  once 
reigned  Sisyphus,  a  most  cruel  and  crafty  king.  From 
Corinth,  Sisyphus  sent  ships  and  traders  to  all  the 
world ;  and  the  wealth  of  Hellas  might  have  been  his, 
had  he  but  loved  the  truth  and  dealt  justly  with  his 
fellow-men.  But  there  was  no  honor  in  his  soul ;  he 
betrayed  his  dearest  friends  for  gold ;  and  he  crushed 
under  a  huge  block  of  stone  the  strangers  who  came  to 
Corinth  to  barter  their  merchandise.  It  is  said,  that, 
once  upon  a  time,  Autolycus  went  down  to  Corinth  in 
the  night,  and  carried  away  all  the  cattle  of  Sisyphus, 
driving  them  to  his  great  pastures  beyond  Parnassus. 
Not  long  afterward,  Sisyphus  went  boldly  to  your 
grandfather's  halls,  and  said,  — 

" '  I  have  come,  Autolycus,  to  get  again  my  cattle 
which  you  have  been  so  kindly  pasturing.' 

"  •  It  is  well,'  said  Autolycus.  '  Go  now  among  my 
herds,  and  if  you  find  any  cattle  bearing  your  mark 
upon  them,  they  are  yours  :  drive  them  back  to  your 
own  pastures.     This   is   the   offer   which    I  make   to 


5<3  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

every  man  who  comes  claiming  that  I  have  stolen  his 
cattle.' 

"Then  Sisyphus,  to  your  grandfather's  great  sur- 
prise, went  among  the  herds,  and  chose  his  own  without 
making  a  single  error. 

" '  See  you  not  my  initial,  2,  under  the  hoof  of  each 
of  these  beasts  ? '  asked  Sisyphus. 

"  Autolycus  saw  at  once  that  he  had  been  outwitted, 
and  he  fain  would  have  made  friends  with  one  who  was 
more  crafty  than  himself.  But  Sisyphus  dealt  treach- 
erously with  him,  as  he  did  with  every  one  who  trusted 
him.  Yet  men  say,  that,  now  he  is  dead,  he  has  his 
reward  in  Hades  ;  for  there  he  is  doomed  to  the  never- 
ending  toil  of  heaving  a  heavy  stone  to  the  top  of  a 
hill,  only  to  see  it  roll  back  again  to  the  plain.'  It  was 
from  him  that  men  learned  to  call  your  grandfather  the 
King  of  Cattle  Thieves ;  with  how  much  justice,  you 
may  judge  for  yourself." 

"  You  have  explained  a  part  of  what  I  asked  you," 
said  Odysseus  thoughtfully,  "but  you  have  not  an- 
swered my  question  about  Hermes." 

"  I  will  answer  that  at  another  time,"  said  Phemius  ; 
"for  to-morrow  we  must  renew  our  journey,  and  I  must 
go  now  and  put  every  thing  in  readiness."  2 

"  But  has  the  oracle  spoken  ? "  asked  Odysseus  in 
surprise. 

"The  Pythia   has  answered  my  question,"  said  the 

*  See  Note  3  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 
8  See  Note  4  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


The  King  of  Cattle  Thieves.  51 

bard.     "I  asked  what   fortune  should  attend  you  on 
this  journey,  and  the  oracle  made  this  reply :  — 

4  To  home  and  kindred  he  shall  safe  return  e'er  long, 
With  scars  well-won,  and  greeted  with  triumphal  song.' " 

"What  does  it  mean  ? "  asked  Odysseus. 

"Just  what  it  says,"  answered  the  bard.  "All  that 
is  now  needed  is  that  we  should  do  our  part,  and  for- 
tune will  surely  smile  upon  us." 

And  so,  on  the  morrow,  they  bade  their  kind  hosts 
farewell,  and  began  to  climb  the  steep  pathway,  which, 
they  were  told,  led  up  and  around  to  the  rock-built 
halls  of  Autolycus.  At  the  top  of  the  first  slope  they 
came  upon  a  broad  table-land  from  the  centre  of  which 
rose  the  peak  of  Parnassus  towering  to  the  skies. 
Around  the  base  of  this  peak,  huge  rocks  were  piled, 
one  above  the  other,  just  as  they  had  been  thrown  in 
the  days  of  old  from  the  mighty  hands  of  the  Titans. 
On  every  side  were  clefts  and  chasms  and  deep  gorges, 
through  which  flowed  roaring  torrents  fed  from  the 
melting  snows  above.  And  in  the  sides  of  the  cliffs 
were  dark  caves  and  narrow  grottos,  hollowed  from 
the  solid  rock,  wherein  strange  creatures  were  said  to 
dwell. 

Now  and  then  Odysseus  fancied  that  he  saw  a 
mountain  nymph  flitting  among  the  trees,  or  a  satyr 
with  shaggy  beard  hastily  hiding  himself  among  the 
clefts  and  crags  above  them.  They  passed  by  the 
great  Corycian  cavern,  whose  huge  vaulted  chambers 


52  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

would  shelter  a  thousand  men  ;  but  they  looked  in  vain 
for  the  nymph  Corycia,  who,  they  were  told,  sometimes 
sat  within,  and  smiled  upon  passing  travellers.  A  little 
farther  beyond,  they  heard  the  mellow  notes  of  a  lyre, 
and  the  sound  of  laughter  and  merry-making,  in  a  grove 
of  evergreens,  lower  down  the  mountain-side ;  and 
Odysseus  wondered  if  Apollo  and  the  Muses  were  not 
there. 

The  path  which  the  little  company  followed  did  not 
lead  to  the  summit  of  the  peak,  but  wound  around  its 
base,  and  then,  by  many  a  zigzag,  led  downward  to  a 
wooded  glen  through  the  middle  of  which  a  mountain 
torrent  rushed.  By  and  by  the  glen  widened  into  a 
pleasant  valley,  broad  and  green,  bounded  on  three 
sides  by  steep  mountain  walls.  Here  were  rich  pas- 
ture-lands, and  a  meadow,  in  which  Odysseus  saw 
thousands  of  cattle  grazing.  The  guide  told  them  that 
those  were  the  pastures  and  the  cattle  of  great  Autoly- 
cus.  Close  to  the  bank  of  the  mountain  torrent,  —  just 
where  it  leaped  from  a  precipice,  and,  forgetting  its 
wild  hurry,  was  changed  to  a  quiet  meadow  brook,  — 
stood  the  dwelling  of  the  chief.  It  was  large  and  low, 
and  had  been  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock ;  it  looked 
more  like  the  entrance  to  a  mountain  cave  than  like  the 
palace  of  a  king. 

Odysseus  and  his  tutor  walked  boldly  into  the  great 
hall ;  for  the  low  doorway  was  open  and  unguarded, 
etnd  the  following  words  were  roughly  carved  in  the 
rock  above :    "  Here   lives  Autolycus.     If  your  heart 


The  King  of  Cattle  Thieves.  53 

is  brave,  enter."  They  passed  through  the  entrance- 
hall,  and  came  to  a  smaller  inner  chamber.  There 
they  saw  Autolycus  seated  in  a  chair  of  ivory  and 
gold,  thick-cushioned  with  furs  ;  and  near  him  sat  fair 
Amphithea  his  wife,  busy  with  her  spindle  and  distaff. 
The  chief  was  very  old  ;  his  white  hair  fell  in  waves 
upon  his  great  shoulders,  and  his  broad  brow  was 
wrinkled  with  age :  yet  his  frame  was  that  of  a  giant, 
and  his  eyes  glowed  and  sparkled  with  the  fire  of 
youth. 

"Strangers,"  said  he  kindly,  "you  are  welcome  to 
my  halls.  It  is  not  often  that  men  visit  me  in  my 
mountain  home,  and  old  age  has  bound  me  here  in 
my  chair  so  that  I  can  no  longer  walk  abroad  among 
my  fellows.  Besides  this,  there  are  those  who  of  latt 
speak  many  unkind  words  of  me ;  and  good  men  care 
not  to  be  the  guests  of  him  who  is  called  the  King 
of  Cattle  Thieves."  Then  seeing  that  his  visitors  still 
lingered  at  the  door,  he  added,  "  I  pray  you,  whoever 
you  may  be,  fear  not,  but  enter,  and  be  assured  of  a 
kind  welcome." 

Then  Odysseus  went  fearlessly  forward,  and  stood 
before  the  chief,  and  made  himself  known,  and  showed 
them  the  presents  which  his  mother  Anticleia  had 
sent.  Glad  indeed  was  the  heart  of  old  Autolycus  a? 
he  grasped  the  hand  of  his  grandson  ;  and  Amphithea 
took  the  lad  in  her  arms,  and  kissed  his  brow  and  both 
his  eyes,  and  wept  for  very  fulness  of  joy.  Then,  at  a 
call  from  the  old  chief,  an  inner  dooi  was  opened,  and 


54  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

his  six  sons  came  in.  Stalwart  men  were  they,  with 
limbs  strong  as  iron,  and  eyes  like  those  of  the  moun- 
tain eagle ;  and  they  warmly  welcomed  the  young 
prince,  and  asked  him  a  thousand  questions  about  his 
home  in  Ithaca,  and  his  queen-mother,  their  sister 
Anticleia. 

"  Waste  not  the  hours  in  talk !  "  cried  old  Autolycus 
at  last.  "  There  is  yet  another  day  for  words.  Make 
ready  at  once  a  fitting  feast  for  this  my  grandson  and 
his  friend  the  bard  ;  and  let  our  halls  ring  loud  with 
joyful  merriment." 

The  sons  at  once  obeyed.  From  the  herd  which  was 
pasturing  in  the  meadows,  they  chose  the  fattest  calf ; 
this  they  slew  and  quickly  dressed  ;  and  then,  cutting 
off  the  choicest  parts,  they  roasted  them  on  spits  before 
the  blazing  fire.  And  when  the  meal  was  ready,  great 
Autolycus,  his  wife,  and  his  sons  sat  down  with  their 
guests  at  the  heavy-laden  table ;  and  they  feasted 
merrily  until  the  sun  went  down,  and  darkness  covered 
the  earth.  Then  the  young  men  brought  arm-loads  of 
dry  branches,  and  logs  of  pine,  and  threw  them  upon 
the  fire,  and  the  blaze  leaped  up  and  lighted  the  hall 
with  a  rich  ruddy  glow;  and  Odysseus  sat  upon  a 
couch  of  bearskins,  at  his  grandfather's  feet,  and 
listened  to  many  a  wonderful  story  of  times  long  past, 
but  ever  present  in  the  old  man's  memory. 

"  Truly  there  are  two  things  against  which  it  is  use- 
iess  for  any  man  to  fight,"  said  Autolycus,  "and  these 
are  old  age  and  death.     The  first  has  already  made  me 


The  King  of  Cattle  Thieves.  55 

his  slave,  and  the  second  will  soon  have  me  in  his 
clutches.  When  I  was  young,  there  was  not  a  man 
who  could  outstrip  me  in  the  foot  race.  I  even  thought 
myself  a  match  for  the  fleet-footed  maiden  Atalanta. 
There  were  very  few  men,  even  among  the  great  heroes, 
who  could  hurl  a  spear  with  more  force  than  I ;  and 
there  was  hardly  one  who  could  bend  my  great  bow. 
But  now  both  spear  and  bow  are  useless.  You  see 
them  standing  in  the  corner  there,  where  my  eyes  can 
rest  upon  them.  To-morrow  you  shall  help  me  polish 
them." 

Then  after  a  moment's  pause  he  added,  "  But,  oh 
the  wrestling  and  the  leaping !  There  was  never  but 
one  mortal  who  could  excel  me  in  either." 

"I  have  heard,"  said  Odysseus,  "that  even  great 
Heracles  was  your  pupil." 

"And  such  indeed  he  was,"  answered  the  old  man. 
"  The  first  time  I  saw  the  matchless  hero,  he  was  but  a 
child,  tall  and  beautiful,  with  the  eyes  of  a  wild  deer, 
and  with  flaxen  hair  falling  over  his  shoulders.  But  he 
was  stronger  even  then  than  any  common  mortal.  His 
stepfather  Amphitryon  called  me  to  Thebes  to  be  the 
boy's  teacher,  for  he  saw  in  him  rich  promises  of  future 
greatness.  With  me  he  called  many  of  the  noblest 
men  of  Hellas.  First  there  was  Eurytus,  the  master 
of  archers,  who  taught  the  hero  how  to  bend  the  bow 
and  send  the  swift  arrow  straight  to  the  mark.  But  in 
an  evil  day  Eurytus  met  his  fate,  and  all  through  his 
own   folly.     For,  being  proud   of  hn   skill,  which   na 


56  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

mortal  could  excel,  he  challenged  great  Apollo  to  a 
shooting  match  ;  and  the  angry  archer-god  pierced  him 
through  and  through  with  his  arrows. 

"Second  among  the  teachers  of  Heracles  was  Castor, 
the  brother  of  Polydeuces  and  of  Helen,  the  most 
beautiful  of  women.  He  taught  the  hero  how  to  wield 
the  spear  and  the  sword.  Then,  there  was  Linus,  the 
brother  of  Orpheus,  sweetest  of  musicians,  who  came 
to  teach  him  how  to  touch  the  lyre  and  bring  forth 
bewitching  melody ;  but  the  boy,  whose  mind  was  set 
on  great  deeds,  cared  naught  for  music,  and  the  lessons 
which  Linus  gave  him  were  profitless.  'Thou  art  but 
a  dull  and  witless  youth ! '  cried  the  minstrel  one  day, 
striking  his  pupil  upon  the  cheek.  Then  Heracles  in 
wrath  smote  Linus  with  his  own  lyre,  and  killed  him. 
'  Even  a  dull  pupil  has  his  rights,'  said  he,  '  and  one  of 
these  is  the  right  not  to  be  called  a  blockhead.'  The 
Theban  rulers  brought  the  young  hero  to  trial  for  his 
crime ;  but  he  stood  up  before  them,  and  reminded  them 
of  a  half-forgotten  law  which  Rhadamanthus,  the  ruler 
of  the  Elysian  land,  had  given  them:  '  Whoso  defends 
himself  against  an  unjust  attack  is  guiltless,  and  shall 
go  free'  And  the  judges,  pleased  with  his  wisdom,  gave 
him  his  liberty." 

"  Did  Heracles  have  any  other  teachers  ? "  asked 
Odysseus,  anxious  to  hear  more. 

"  Yes ;  Amphytrion  himself  taught  the  lad  how  to 
drive  a  chariot  skilfully,  and  how  to  manage  horses. 
And,  as  I  have  said,  he  called  me  to  teach  him  the 


The  King  of  Cattle  Thieves.  57 

manly  arts  of  leaping  and  running  and  wrestling.  He 
was  an  apt  pupil,  and  soon  excelled  his  master;  and 
Amphitryon,  fearing  that  in  a  thoughtless  moment  he 
might  serve  me  as  he  had  served  unlucky  Linus,  sent 
him  away  to  Mount  Cithaeron  to  watch  his  herds 
which  were  pasturing  there." 

"Surely,"  said  Odysseus,  looking  at  the  giant  arms 
of  his  grandfather,  ridged  with  iron  muscles,  —  "  surely 
there  was  no  danger  of  the  young  hero  harming  you." 

"A  son  of  Hermes,  such  as  I,"  said  the  old  chief, 
"  might  dare  to  stand  against  Heracles  in  craft  and  cun- 
ning, but  never  in  feats  of  strength.  While  the  lad  fed 
Amphytrion's  flocks  in  the  mountain  meadows,  he  grew 
to  be  a  giant,  four  cubits  in  height,  and  terrible  to  look 
upon.  His  voice  was  like  the  roar  of  a  desert  lion  ;  his 
step  was  like  the  march  of  an  earthquake ;  and  fire 
flashed  from  his  eyes  like  the  glare  of  thunderbolts 
when  they  are  hurled  from  the  storm  clouds  down  to 
the  fruitful  plains  below.  He  could  tear  up  trees  by 
their  roots,  and  hurl  mountain  crags  from  their  places. 
It  was  then  that  he  slew  the  Cithaeron  lion  with  his 
bare  hands,  and  took  its  skin  for  a  helmet  and  a  mantle 
which,  I  am  told,  he  wears  to  this  very  day.  Only  a 
little  while  after  this,  he  led  the  Thebans  into  a  battle 
with  their  enemies,  the  Minyans,  and  gained  for  them  a 
glorious  victory.  Then  Pallas  Athene^  well  pleased 
with  the  hero,  gave  him  a  purple  robe  ;  Hephaestus 
made  for  him  a  breastplate  of  solid  gold  ;  and  Hermes 
gave  him  a  sword,  Apollo  a  bow,  and  Poseidon  a  team 


58  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

of  the  most  wonderful  horses  ever  known.  Then,  that 
he  might  be  fully  armed,  he  went  into  the  Nemaean 
wood,  and  cut  for  himself  that  stout  club  which  he 
always  carries,  and  which  is  more  terrible  in  his  hands 
than  spear,  or  sword,  or  bow  and  arrows." 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Odysseus,  "  that  Cheiron,  the 
centaur,  was  one  of  the  teachers  of  Heracles." 

"He  was  not  only  his  teacher,"  said  Autolycus,  "but 
he  was  his  friend.  He  taught  what  was  just  and  true; 
he  showed  him  that  there  is  one  thing  greater  than 
strength,  and  that  is  gentleness  ;  and  he  led  him  to 
change  his  rude,  savage  nature  into  one  full  of  kind- 
ness and  love  :  so  that  in  all  the  world  there  is  no  one 
so  full  of  pity  for  the  poor  and  weak,  so  full  of  sym- 
pathy for  the  down-trodden,  as  is  Heracles  the  strong. 
Had  it  not  been  for  wise  Cheiron,  I  fear  that  Heracles 
would  not  have  made  the  happy  decision  which  he  once 
did,  when  the  choice  of  two  roads  was  offered  him." 

"What  was  that?"  asked  Odysseus.  "I  have  never 
heard  about  it." 

"  When  Heracles  was  a  fair-faced  youth,  and  life  was 
all  before  him,  he  went  out  one  morning  to  do  an  errand 
for  his  stepfather  Amphitryon.  But  as  he  walked,  his 
heart  was  full  of  bitter  thoughts ;  and  he  murmured 
because  others  no  better  than  himself  were  living  in 
ease  and  pleasure,  while  for  him  there  was  naught  but 
a  life  of  labor  and  pain.  And  as  he  thought  upon  these 
things,  he  came  to  a  place  where  two  roads  met ;  and 
he  stopped,  not  certain  which  one  to  take.     The  road 


The  King  of  Cattle  Thieves.  59 

on  his  right  was  hilly  and  rough  ;  there  was  no  beauty 
in  it  or  about  it :  but  he  saw  that  it  led  straight  towards 
the  blue  mountains  in  the  far  distance.  The  road  on 
his  left  was  broad  and  smooth,  with  shade  trees  on 
either  side,  where  sang  an  innumerable  choir  of  birds ; 
and  it  went  winding  among  green  meadows,  where 
bloomed  countless  flowers :  but  it  ended  in  fog  and 
mist  long  before  it  ever  reached  the  wonderful  blue 
mountains  in  the  distance. 

"  While  the  lad  stood  in  doubt  as  to  these  roads,  he 
saw  two  fair  women  coming  towards  him,  each  on  a 
different  road.  The  one  who  came  by  the  flowery  way 
reached  him  first,  and  Heracles  saw  that  she  was  beau- 
tiful as  a  summer  day.  Her  cheeks  were  red,  her  eyes 
sparkled  ;  she  spoke  warm,  persuasive  words.  '  O  noble 
youth,'  she  said,  '  be  no  longer  bowed  down  with  labor 
and  sore  trials,  but  come  and  follow  me.  I  will  lead 
you  into  pleasant  paths,  where  there  are  no  storms  to 
disturb  and  no  troubles  to  annoy.  You  shall  live  in 
ease,  with  one  unending  round  of  music  and  mirth ;  and 
you  shall  not  want  for  any  thing  that  makes  life  joyous, 
■ —  sparkling  wine,  or  soft  couches,  or  rich  robes,  or  the 
loving  eyes  of  beautiful  maidens.  Come  with  me,  and 
life  shall  be  to  you  a  day-dream  of  gladness.' 

"  By  this  time  the  other  fair  woman  had  drawn  near, 
and  she  now  spoke  to  the  lad.  '  I  have  nothing  to 
promise  you,'  said  she,  'save  that  which  you  shall  win 
with  your  own  strength.  The  road  upon  which  I  would 
lead  you  is  uneven  and  hard,  and  climbs  many  a  hill, 


60  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

and  descends  into  many  a  valley  and  quagmire.  The 
views  which  you  will  sometimes  get  from  the  hilltops 
are  grand  and  glorious,  but  the  deep  valleys  are  dark, 
and  the  ascent  from  them  is  toilsome ;  but  the  road 
leads  to  the  blue  mountains  of  endless  fame,  which  you 
see  far  away  on  the  horizon.  They  cannot  be  reached 
without  labor;  in  fact,  there  is  nothing  worth  having 
that  must  not  be  won  by  toil.  If  you  would  have  fruits 
and  flowers,  you  must  plant  them  and  care  for  them  ; 
if  you  would  gain  the  love  of  your  fellow-men,  you  must 
love  them  and  suffer  for  them  ;  if  you  would  enjoy  the 
favor  of  Heaven,  you  must  make  yourself  worthy  of 
that  favor ;  if  you  would  have  eternal  fame,  you  must 
not  scorn  the  hard  road  that  leads  to  it.' 

"  Then  Heracles  saw  that  this  lady,  although  she  was 
as  beautiful  as  the  other,  had  a  countenance  pure  and 
gentle,  like  the  sky  on  a  balmy  morning  in  May. 

"  '  What  is  your  name  ? '  he  asked. 

"  '  Some  call  me  Labor,'  she  answered,  '  but  others 
know  me  as  Virtue.' 

"Then  he  turned  to  the  first  lady.  'And  what  is 
your  name  ? '  he  asked. 

" '  Some  call  me  Pleasure,'  she  said,  with  a  bewitching 
smile,  'but  I  choose  to  be  known  as  the  Joyous  and 
Happy  One.' 

" '  Virtue,'  said  Heracles,  '  I  will  take  thee  as  my 
guide !  The  road  of  labor  and  honest  effort  shall  be 
mine,  and  my  heart  shall  no  longer  cherish  bitterness 
or  discontent.' 


The  King  of  Cattle  Thieves.  61 

"  And  he  put  his  hand  into  that  of  Virtue,  and  en- 
tered with  her  upon  the  straight  and  forbidding  road 
which  leads  to  the  fair  blue  mountains  on  the  pale  and 
distant  horizon.1 

"My  dear  grandson,  make  thou  the  same  wise 
choice. 

"  But  now  the  fire  has  burned  low,  and  it  is  time  that 
both  old  and  young  should  seek  repose.  Go  now  to 
your  chamber  and  your  couch ;  and  pleasant  dreams 
be  yours  until  the  new  day  dawns,  bringing  its  labors 
and  its  victories." 

1  See  Note  5  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


ADVENTURE   VI. 


TWO   FAMOUS   BOAR  HUNTS. 

Hardly  had  the  morning  tinged  the  eastern  sky  with 
her  yellow  light,  when  Odysseus  arose  from  his  couch, 
and  quickly  clothed  himself ;  for  he  had  been  awak- 
ened by  the  sound  of  hurrying  feet,  and  many  voices, 
and  the  barking  of  dogs,  beneath  his  chamber  window. 
When  he  went  down  into  the  great  hall,  he  was  greeted 
by  his  six  stalwart  uncles,  all  of  whom  were  dressed  for 
the  chase,  and  armed  with  spears  and  knives. 

"  To-day  we  hunt  the  wild  boar  on  the  wooded  slopes 
of  Parnassus,"  said  Echion,  the  eldest.  "  How  glad  we 
should  be  if  you  were  old  enough  and  strong  enough  to 
join  us  in  the  sport !  " 

The  heart  of  Odysseus  was  stirred  at  once,  like  that 
of  a  warrior  when  he  hears  the  battle-call.  "  I  am 
certainly  strong  enough  !  "  he  cried.  "  I  will  ask  my 
grandfather  if  I  may  go." 

Autolycus  smiled  when  the  boy  made  known  his  wish. 

Indeed,  he  was  expecting   such  a  request,  and  would 

have  been  disappointed  and  displeased  if  it  had  not 

been  made. 

62 


Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts.  63 

"Yes,  go,  my  child,"  he  said ;  "and  while  I  sit  here, 
bound  with  the  fetters  of  old  age,  my  blessing  shall 
go  with  you." 

Odysseus  thanked  his  grandfather,  and  lost  no  time  in 
making  himself  ready  for  the  hunt.  A  hasty  meal  was 
eaten  ;  and  then  the  huntsmen,  with  a  great  number  of 
dogs  and  serving-men,  sallied  forth,  and  began  to  climb 
the  mountain  slopes.  The  master  of  the  hunt  was  an 
old,  gray-bearded  man,  one  of  the  last  of  the  ancient 
race  of  heroes,  whose  whole  life  had  been  spent  in  the 
household  of  Autolycus.  Old  as  he  was,  he  outstrode 
all  the  other  huntsmen ;  but  Odysseus,  young  and  sup- 
ple, kept  close  behind  him,  —  a  dwarf  following  in  the 
wake  of  a  giant.  Upward  and  still  upward  they  toiled, 
while  their  comrades,  with  the  hounds,  followed  slowly 
far  below  them.  They  passed  through  the  belt  of  pine 
trees,  and  left  the  wooded  slopes  behind.  There  was 
now  nothing  but  bare  rocks  before  and  above  them. 
The  cold  winds  whistled  about  their  heads ;  the  moun- 
tain eagles  soared  and  screamed  in  the  sharp  morning 
air. 

"  Surely,  my  father,"  said  Odysseus,  "  the  lair  ijt  the 
wild  boar  cannot  be  on  these  bleak  heights.  Would  it 
not  be  better  to  seek  him  among  the  woods  of  the  lower 
slopes  ? " 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  old  man,  stopping  at  last 
upon  one  of  the  highest  crags.  "  I  have  brought  you 
to  this  spot,  not  in  search  of  game,  but  to  show  you 
what  is  a  truly  great  and  beautiful  sight.     Your  tutor 


64  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

has  told  me  that  you  once  had  a  glimpse  of  the  world 
from  Mount  Neritus ;  now  look  around  you,  and  see  the 
world  itself ! " 

Then  the  lad  looked  ;  and  far  away  on  the  blue  hori- 
zon he  saw  the  silvery  heights  of  Olympus,  the  throne 
of  mighty  Zeus,  glittering  in  the  sunlight,  and  canopied 
with  clouds.  On  his  right  he  beheld  Mount  Helicon 
and  the  fruitful  plains  of  Bceotia,  and  the  blue  sea  of 
-iEgaea  stretching  away  and  away  towards  the  sunrise 
halls  of  Helios.  Southward  lay  the  Bay  of  Crissa,  and 
beyond  it  the  land  of  mighty  Pelops,  and  busy  Corinth, 
and  the  rich  pasture-lands  of  Arcadia.  Then  turning 
to  the  west,  he  saw,  like  a  mere  speck  on  the  horizon, 
his  own  loved  Ithaca ;  while  nearer  were  the  woods  of 
Calydon  and  the  green  headlands  of  Achaia.  At  that 
moment  the  clouds  which  had  been  hanging  about  the 
mountain-top  suddenly  melted  away,  and  the  sun  shone 
out  bright  and  clear,  bathing  the  woods  and  crags  in 
purple  and  gold ;  while  at  the  same  time  the  music  of 
ten  thousand  voices  of  birds  and  beasts  and  nymphs 
and  waterfalls  was  borne  up  from  below  to  their 
delighted  ears. 

"  Is  not  this  a  beautiful  world  ? "  asked  the  aged  hero, 
baring  his  gray  head  to  the  cold  winds.  "  What  would 
you  not  give  to  have  it  all  for  your  own  ? " 

The  lad  answered  not  a  word  ;  but  his  eyes  filled  with 
tears  as  he  thought  of  his  home  and  of  those  whom  he 
loved,  far  away  by  the  green  slopes  of  little  Neritus. 

"  My  son,"  then  said  the  hero,  "remember  the  choice 


Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts.  65 

of  Heracles.  Happiness  is  to  be  gotten  from  within 
us.  It  is  not  to  be  bought  with  silver  and  gold,  nor  yet 
is  it  to  be  seized  upon  with  violence.  Better  have  a 
clean  conscience  than  to  own  all  Hellas ;  better  — 
But  hark !  I  hear  the  dogs  in  the  dells  far  below 
us !  Let  us  hasten  down,  for  they  have  started  the 
game." 

Within  a  thorny  thicket  where  grew  the  vines  and 
leaves  so  closely  that  the  sun's  rays  never  struggled 
through  them,  the  huge  wild  boar  had  made  his  lair. 
Hither  the  hounds  had  tracked  him ;  and  their  deep 
baying,  and  the  trampling  of  many  feet  among  the  dead 
leaves  upon  the  ground,  had  roused  the  beast,  and 
stirred  him  into  fury.  Suddenly  he  sprang  from  his 
lair,  and  gnashing  his  huge  tusks,  and  foaming  with 
fury,  he  charged  upon  his  foes.  The  dogs  fell  back, 
afraid  to  come  too  close  to  an  enemy  so  fierce  and 
strong ;  and  with  their  many-toned  bays  they  made  the 
echoes  of  Parnassus  ring. 

Just  at  this  moment,  the  boy  Odysseus  rushed  down 
into  the  glen,  his  long  spear  poised  and  ready  to  strike. 
But  the  great  beast  waited  not  for  the  stroke  :  he  dashed 
furiously  at  the  boy,  who  quickly  leaped  aside,  although 
too  late.  The  boar's  sharp  tusk  struck  Odysseus  just 
above  the  knee,  cutting  a  fearful  gash,  tearing  the  flesh, 
and  even  grazing  the  bone.  But  the  lad,  undaunted, 
struck  manfully  with  his  weapon.  The  bright  spear 
was  driven  straight  to  the  heart  of  the  beast ;  with  one 
great  cry  he  fell,  and  gnashing  his  huge  jaws  helplessly 


66  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age, 

he  died  among  the  withered  leaves.  The  boy,  faint 
with  pain  and  the  joy  of  victory,  staggered  into  the 
arms  of  his  stalwart  uncles,  who  had  hastened  to  succor 
him.  Gently  they  bound  up  the  ghastly  wound,  and 
with  charms  and  witchery  stanched  the  flowing  blood. 
Then,  upon  a  litter  woven  of  vines  and  pliant  twigs, 
they  bore  him  down  the  deep  glen  to  the  broad  halls  of 
old  Autolycus  ;  and  the  men  and  boys,  having  flayed 
the  grisly  beast,  brought  afterward  its  head  and  bristly 
hide,  and  set  them  up  as  trophies  in  the  gateway. 

For  many  weary  days,  Odysseus  lay  helpless  on  a 
couch  of  pain.  But  his  kind  kinsmen,  and  Phemius 
his  tutor,  waited  on  him  tenderly,  and  his  fair  grand- 
mother Amphithea  nursed  him.  And  when  the  pain 
left  him,  and  he  began  to  grow  strong  again,  he  loved 
to  lie  on  the  bearskins  at  his  grandfather's  feet,  and 
listen  to  tales  of  the  earlier  days,  when  the  older  race 
of  heroes  walked  the  earth. 

"  When  I  was  younger  than  1  am  to-day,"  said  the 
old  chief,  as  they  sat  one  evening  in  the  light  of  the 
blazing  brands,  —  "  when  I  was  much  younger  than  now, 
it  was  my  fortune  to  take  part  in  the  most  famous  boar 
hunt  the  world  has  ever  known. 

"There  lived  at  that  time,  in  Calydon,  a  mighty 
chief  named  Oineus,  —  and,  indeed,  I  know  not  but  that 
he  still  lives.  Oineus  was  rich  in  vineyards  and  in 
orchards,  and  no  other  man  in  all  ^Etolia  was  happier 
or  more  blessed  than  he.  He  had  married,  early  in  life, 
the  princess  Althea,  fairest  of  the  Acarnanian  maidens  •, 


Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts.  67 

and  to  them  a  son  had  been  born,  golden-haired  and 
beautiful,  whom  they  called  Meleager. 

"  When  Meleager  was  yet  but  one  day  old,  his  father 
held  him  in  his  arms,  and  prayed  to  Zeus  and  the  ever- 
living  powers  above  :  '  Grant,  Father  Zeus,  and  all  ye 
deathless  ones,  that  this  my  son  may  be  the  foremost 
among  the  men  of  Hellas.  And  let  it  come  to  pass, 
that  when  they  see  his  valiant  deeds,  his  countrymen 
shall  say,  "  Behold,  this  youth  is  greater  than  his  father," 
and  all  of  one  accord  shall  hail  him  as  their  guardian 
king.' 

"Then  his  mother  Althea,  weeping  tears  of  joy, 
prayed  to  Pallas  Athene,  that  the  boy  might  grow  up 
to  be  pure-minded  and  gentle,  the  hope  and  pride  of 
his  parents,  and  the  delight  and  staff  of  their  declining 
years.  Scarcely  had  the  words  of  prayer  died  from  her 
lips,  when  there  came  into  her  chamber  the  three 
unerring  Fates  who  spin  the  destinies  of  men.  White- 
robed  and  garlanded,  they  stood  beside  the  babe,  and 
with  unwearied  fingers  drew  out  the  lines  of  his  un- 
tried life.  Sad  Clotho  held  the  golden  distaff  in  her 
hand,  and  twirled  and  twisted  the  delicate  thread. 
Lachesis,  now  sad,  now  hopeful,  with  her  long  white 
fingers  held  the  hourglass,  and  framed  her  lips  to  say, 
'  It  is  enough.'  And  Atropos,  blind  and  unpitying  as 
the  future  always  is,  stood  ready,  with  cruel  shears,  to 
clip  the  twist  in  twain.  Busily  and  silently  sad  Clotho 
spun  ;  and  the  golden  thread,  thin  as  a  spider's  web, 
yet  beautiful   as  a   sunbeam,  grew   longer  and   more 


68  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

golden  between  her  skilful  fingers.  Then  Lachesis 
cried  out,  '  It  is  finished  ! '  But  Atropos  hid  her  shears 
beneath  her  mantle,  and  said,  '  Not  so.  Behold,  there 
is  a  brand  burning  upon  the  hearth.  Wait  until  it  is 
all  burned  into  ashes  and  smoke,  and  then  I  will  cut 
the  thread  of  the  child's  life.     Spin  on,  sweet  Clotho ! ' 

"  Quick  as  thought,  Althea  sprang  forward,  snatched 
the  blazing  brand  from  the  hearth,  and  quenched  its 
flame  in  a  jar  of  water  ;  and  when  she  knew  that  not  a 
single  spark  was  left  glowing  upon  it,  she  locked  it 
safely  in  a  chest  where  none  but  she  could  find  it.  As 
she  did  this,  the  pitiless  sisters  vanished  from  her  sight, 
saying  as  they  flitted  through  the  air,  'We  bide  our 
time.' l 

"  Meleager  grew  up  to  be  a  tall  and  fair  and  gentle 
youth  ;  and  when  at  last  he  became  a  man,  he  sailed  on 
the  ship  Argo,  with  Jason,  and  Laertes  your  father, 
and  the  great  heroes  of  that  day,  to  far-off  Colchis,  in 
search  of  the  Golden  Fleece.  Many  brave  deeds  were 
his  in  foreign  lands ;  and  when  he  came  home  again  to 
Calydon,  he  brought  with  him  a  fair  young  wife,  gentle 
Cleopatra,  daughter  of  Idas  the  boaster. 

"  Oineus  had  gathered  in  his  harvest ;  and  he  was 
glad  and  thankful  in  his  heart,  because  his  fields  had 
yielded  plenteous:  y  ;  his  vines  had  been  loaded  with 
purple  grapes,  and  his  orchards  filled  with  abundance 
of  pleasant  fruit.  Grateful,  as  men  should  always  be,  to 
the  givers  of  peace  and  plenty,  he  held  within  his  halls 

1  See  Note  6  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts.  09 

a  harvest  festival,  to  which  the  brave  and  beautiful  of 
all  iEtolia  came.  Happy  was  this  feast,  and  the  hours 
were  bright  with  smiles  and  sunshine  ;  and  men  forgot 
sorrow  and  labor,  and  thought  only  of  the  gladness  of 
life. 

"  Then  Oineus  took  of  the  first-fruits  of  his  fields  and 
his  vineyards  and  his  orchards,  and  offered  them  in 
thankful  offerings  to  the  givers  of  good.  But  he  forgot 
to  deck  the  shrine  of  Artemis  with  gifts,  little  thinking 
that  the  arrow-darting  queen  cared  for  any  thing  which 
mortal  men  might  offer  her.  Ah,  woful  mistake  was 
that !  For,  in  her  anger  at  the  slight,  Artemis  sent  a 
savage  boar,  with  ivory  tusks  and  foaming  mouth,  to 
overrun  the  lands  of  Calydon.  Many  a  field  did  the 
monster  ravage,  many  a  tree  uproot ;  and  all  the  grow- 
ing vines,  which  late  had  borne  so  rich  a  vintage,  were 
trampled  to  the  ground.  Sadly  troubled  was  Oineus, 
and  the  chieftains  of  iEtolia  knew  not  what  to  do.  For 
the  fierce  beast  could  not  be  slain,  but  with  his  terrible 
tusks  he  had  sent  many  a  rash  hunter  to  an  untimely 
death.  Then  the  young  man  Meleager  said,  'I  will 
call  together  the  heroes  of  Hellas,  and  we  will  hunt  the 
boar  in  the  woods  of  Calydon.' 

"And  so  at  the  call  of  Meleager,  the  warriors  flocked 
from  every  land,  to  join  in  the  hunt  of  the  fierce  wild 
boar.  Among  them  came  Castor  and  Polydeuces,  the 
twin  brothers  from  Lacedaemon ;  and  Idas  the  boaster, 
the  father-in-law  of  Meleager,  from  Messene ;  and 
mighty   Jason,    captain   of    the   Argo ;   and   Atalanta, 


Jo  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

the  swift -footed  daughter  of  Iasus  of  Arcadia ;  and 
many  Acarnanian  huntsmen  led  by  the  sons  of  Thes- 
tios,  Althea's  brothers.  Thither  also  did  I,  Autolycus, 
hasten,  although  men  spitefully  said  that  I  was  far 
more  skilful  in  taking  tame  beasts  than  in  slaying  wild 
ones. 

"  Nine  days  we  feasted  in  the  halls  of  Oineus ;  and 
every  day  we  tried  our  skill  with  bows  and  arrows,  and 
tested  the  strength  of  our  well-seasoned  spears.  On 
the  tenth,  the  bugles  sounded,  and  hounds  and  hunts- 
men gathered  in  the  courtyard  of  the  chief,  chafing  for 
the  hunt.  But  a  proud  fellow  named  Cepheus,  of  Ar^ 
cadia,  when  he  saw  fair  Atalanta  equipped  for  the 
chase,  drew  back  disdainfully,  and  said,  — 

" '  In  my  country,  it  is  not  the  custom  for  heroes  to 
go  to  battle  or  to  hunt  side  by  side  with  women. 
Woman's  place  is  at  home  :  her  weapons  are  the  distaff 
and  the  needle ;  her  duty  is  to  practise  well  the  house- 
hold virtues.  If  you  allow  this  young  girl  to  join  in 
this  hunt,  then  I  will  turn  my  face  homeward,  and  seek 
in  the  Arcadian  land  adventures  worthy  of  men.' 

"Then  Meleager  angrily  answered,  'In  the  Arcadian 
land,  if  report  speaks  truly,  the  deeds  deemed  worthiest 
of  men  are  the  watching  of  flocks  and  the  tuning  of 
the  shepherd's  pipe.  It  is  fear,  not  bravery,  that 
makes  you  seek  an  excuse  to  leave  the  chase  of  the 
wild  boar  before  it  is  begun.  You  are  afraid  of  the 
beast ;  and  you  are  still  more  afraid  of  the  maiden  Ata- 
lanta, lest  she  should  prove  to  be  more  skilled  than  you. 


Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts.  77 

Have  you  heard  how,  when  an  infant,  she  was  left  to 
perish  on  the  Parthenian  hill,  and  would  have  died,  had 
not  a  she-bear  cared  for  her  until  some  hunters  rescued 
her  ?  Have  you  heard  how,  as  she  grew  up,  her  beauty 
was  greater  than  that  of  any  other  maiden,  and  how  no 
one  but  Artemis,  the  archer-queen,  could  shoot  the 
swift  arrow  so  fair  and  straight  ?  Have  you  heard  what 
she  did  on  the  ship  Argo,  when,  with  Jason  as  our 
captain,  we  sailed  to  the  utmost  bounds  of  the  earth, 
and  brought  home  with  us  the  fleece  of  gold  ?  Have 
you  heard  how,  with  her  own  arrows,  she  slew  the 
beastly  centaurs,  Rhoecus  and  Hylaeus,  because  they 
dared  to  make  love  to  one  so  pure  and  beautiful  ? 
Doubtless  you  have  heard  all  these  things,  and  you  are 
afraid  to  go  to  the  field  of  danger  with  one  so  much 
nobler  than  yourself.  Go  back,  then,  to  your  sheep- 
tending  Arcadia  !     No  one  will  miss  you  in  the  chase.' 

"Then  Cepheus  blushed,  but  more  from  shame  than 
anger.  '  I  will  ride  with  you  into  the  wood,'  said  he, 
'  and  never  again  shall  any  man  accuse  me  of  having  a 
timid  heart.' 

"  Soon  we  sallied  forth  from  the  town,  a  hundred 
huntsmen,  with  dogs  innumerable.  Through  the  fields 
and  orchards,  laid  waste  by  the  savage  beast,  we 
passed ;  and  Atalanta,  keen  of  sight  and  swift  of  foot, 
her  long  hair  floating  in  the  wind  behind  her,  led  all 
the  rest.  It  was  not  long  until,  in  a  narrow  dell  once 
green  with  vines  and  trees,  but  now  strewn  thick  with 
withered  branches,  we  roused  the  fierce  creature  from 


72  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

his  lair.  At  first  he  fled,  followed  closely  by  the  bay- 
ing hounds.  Then  suddenly  he  faced  his  foes ;  with 
gnashing  teeth  and  bloodshot  eyes,  he  charged  furi- 
ously upon  them.  A  score  of  hounds  were  slain  out- 
right ;  and  Cepheus,  rushing  blindly  onward,  was 
caught  by  the  beast,  and  torn  in  pieces  by  his  sharp 
tusks.  Brave  Peleus  of  Phthia  with  unsteady  aim  let 
fly  an  arrow  from  his  bow,  which,  falling  short  of  the 
mark,  smote  his  friend  Eurytion  full  in  the  breast,  and 
stretched  him  lifeless  upon  the  ground.  Then  swift- 
footed  Atalanta,  bounding  forward,  struck  the  beast  a 
deadly  blow  with  her  spear.  He  stopped  short  his  furi- 
ous onslaught ;  and  Amphiaraus,  the  hero  and  prophet 
of  Argos,  launching  a  swift  arrow,  put  out  one  of  his 
eyes.  Terrible  were  the  cries  of  the  wounded  creature, 
as,  blinded  and  bleeding,  he  made  a  last  charge  upon 
the  huntsmen.  But  Meleager  with  a  skilful  sword- 
thrust  pierced  his  heart,  and  the  beast  fell  weltering 
in  his  gore.  Great  joy  filled  the  hearts  of  the  Caly- 
donians,  when  they  saw  the  scourge  of  their  land  laid 
low  and  helpless.  They  quickly  flayed  the  beast,  and 
the  heroes  who  had  shared  in  the  hunt  divided  the 
flesh  among  them  ;  but  the  head  and  the  bristly  hide 
they  gave  to  Meleager. 

" '  Not  to  me  does  the  prize  belong,'  he  cried,  '  but  to 
Atalanta,  the  swift-footed  huntress.  For  the  first  wound 
—  the  true  death  stroke,  indeed  —  was  given  by  her ; 
and  to  her,  woman  though  she  be,  all  honor  and  the 
prize  must  be  awarded.' 


Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts.  73 

"With  these  words,  he  bore  the  grinning  head  and  the 
bristly  hide  to  the  fair  young  huntress,  and  laid  them 
at  her  feet.  Then  his  uncles,  the  sons  of  Acarnanian 
Thestios,  rushed  angrily  forward,  saying  that  no  woman 
should  ever  bear  a  prize  away  from  them ;  and  they 
seized  the  hide,  and  would  have  taken  it  away,  had  not 
Meleager  forbidden  them.  Yet  they  would  not  loose 
their  hold  upon  the  prize,  but  drew  their  swords,  and 
wrathfully  threatened  Meleager's  life.  The  hero's  heart 
grew  hot  within  him,  and  he  shrunk  not  from  the  affray. 
Long  and  fearful  was  the  struggle,  —  uncles  against 
nephew  ;  but  in  the  end  the  sons  of  Thestios  lay  bleed- 
ing upon  the  ground,  while  the  victor  brought  again  the 
boar's  hide,  and  laid  it  the  second  time  at  Atalanta's 
feet.  The  fair  huntress  took  the  prize,  and  carried  it 
away  with  her  to  deck  her  father's  hall  in  the  pleasant 
Arcadian  land.  And  the  heroes,  when  they  had  feasted 
nine  other  days  with  King  Oineus,  betook  themselves 
to  their  own  homes. 

"But  the  hearts  of  the  Acarnanians  were  bitter 
towards  Meleager,  because  of  the  death  of  the  sons  of 
Thestios,  and  because  no  part  of  the  wild  boar  was 
awarded  to  them.  They  called  their  chiefs  around 
them,  and  all  their  brave  men,  and  made  war  upon  King 
Oineus  and  Meleager.  Many  battles  did  they  fight 
round  Calydon,  and  among  the  ^Etolian  hills  ;  yet  while 
Meleager  led  his  warriors  to  the  fray,  the  Acarnanians 
fared  but  ill. 

"  Then  Queen  Althea,  filled  with  grief  for  her  broth- 


74  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

ers'  untimely  death,  forgot  her  love  for  her  son,  and 
prayed  that  her  Acarnanian  kinsmen  might  prevail 
against  him.  Upon  the  hard  earth  she  knelt :  she  beat 
the  ground  with  her  hands,  and  heaped  the  dust  about 
her ;  and,  weeping  bitter  tears,  she  called  upon  Hades 
and  heartless  Persephone  to  avenge  her  of  Meleager. 
And  even  as  she  prayed,  the  pitiless  Furies,  wandering 
amid  the  darkness,  heard  her  cries,  and  came,  obedient 
to  her  wishes. 

"  When  Meleager  heard  that  his  mother  had  turned 
against  him,  he  withdrew  in  sorrow  to  his  own  house, 
and  sought  comfort  and  peace  with  his  wife,  fair  Cle- 
opatra ;  and  he  would  not  lead  his  warriors  any  more 
to  battle  against  the  Acarnanians.  Then  the  enemy 
besieged  the  city :  a  fearful  tumult  rose  about  the  gates  ; 
the  high  towers  were  assaulted,  and  everywhere  the 
Calydonians  were  driven  back  dismayed  and  beaten. 
With  uplifted  hands  and  tearful  eyes,  King  Oineus  and 
the  elders  of  the  city  came  to  Meleager,  and  besought 
him  to  take  the  field  again.  Rich  gifts  they  offered 
him.  They  bade  him  choose  for  his  own  the  most 
fertile  farm  in  Calydon,  —  at  the  least  fifty  acres,  half 
for  tillage  and  half  for  vines  ;  but  he  would  not  listen  to 
them.  The  din  of  battle  thickened  outside  the  gates ; 
the  towers  shook  with  the  thundering  blows  of  the 
besiegers.  Old  Oineus  with  trembling  limbs  climbed 
up  the  stairway  to  his  son's  secluded  chamber,  and, 
weeping,  prayed  him  to  come  down  and  save  the  city 
from  fire  and  pillage.    Still  he  kept  silent,  and  went  not. 


Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts.  75 


His  sisters  came,  and  his  most  trusted  friends.  'Come, 
Meleager,'  they  prayed,  'forget  thy  grief,  and  think 
only  of  our  great  need.  Aid  thy  people,  or  we  shall 
all  perish ! ' 

"  None  of  these  prayers  moved  him.  The  gates  were 
beaten  down  ;  the  enemy  was  within  the  walls ;  the 
tide  of  battle  shook  the  very  tower  where  Meleager  sat ; 
the  doom  of  Calydon  seemed  to  be  sealed.  Then  came 
the  fair  Cleopatra,  and  knelt  before  her  husband,  and 
besought  him  to  withhold  no  longer  the  aid  which  he 
alone  could  give.  '  O  Meleager,'  she  sobbed,  'none  but 
thou  can  save  us.  Wilt  thou  sit  still,  and  see  the  city 
laid  in  ashes,  thy  dearest  friends  slaughtered,  and  thy 
wife  and  sweet  babes  dragged  from  their  homes  and 
sold  into  cruel  slavery  ? ' 

"  Then  Meleager  rose  and  girded  on  his  armor.  To 
the  streets  he  hastened,  shouting  his  well-known  battle- 
cry.  Eagerly  and  hopefully  did  the  Calydonian  war- 
riors rally  around  him.  Fiercely  did  they  meet  the  foe. 
Terrible  was  the  bloodshed.  Back  from  the  battered 
gates  and  the  crumbling  wall,  the  Acarnanian  hosts 
were  driven.  A  panic  seized  upon  them.  They  turned 
and  fled,  and  not  many  of  them  escaped  the  swords  of 
Meleager's  men. 

"  Again  there  was  peace  in  Calydon,  and  the  orchards 
of  King  Oineus  blossomed  and  bore  fruit  as  of  old; 
but  the  gifts  and  large  rewards  which  the  elders  had 
promised  to  Meleager  were  forgotten.  He  had  saved 
his  country,  but  his  countrymen  were  ungrateful. 


J  6  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

"Then  Meleager  again  laid  aside  his  war-gear,  and 
sought  the  quiet  of  his  own  home,  and  the  cheering 
presence  of  fair  Cleopatra.  For  the  remembrance  of 
his  mother's  curse  and  his  country's  ingratitude  weighed 
heavily  on  his  mind,  and  he  cared  no  longer  to  mingle 
with  his  fellow-men. 

"  Then  it  was  that  Althea's  hatred  of  her  son  waxed 
stronger,  and  she  thought  of  the  half-burnt  brand  which 
she  had  hidden,  and  of  the  words  which  the  fatal  sisters 
had  spoken  so  many  years  before. 

"'  He  is  no  longer  my  son,'  said  she,  'and  why  should 
I  withhold  the  burning  of  the  brand  ?  He  can  never 
again  bring  comfort  to  my  heart ;  for  the  blood  of  my 
brothers,  whom  I  loved,  is  upon  his  head.' 

"And  she  took  the  charred  billet  from  the  place  where 
she  had  hidden  it,  and  cast  it  again  into  the  flames. 
And  as  it  slowly  burned  away,  so  did  the  life  of  Melea- 
ger wane.  Lovingly  he  bade  his  wife  farewell ;  softly 
he  whispered  a  prayer  to  the  unseen  powers  above ;  and 
as  the  flickering  flames  of  the  fatal  brand  died  into 
darkness,  he  gently  breathed  his  last. 

"  Then  sharp-toothed  remorse  seized  upon  Althea,  and 
the  mother-love  which  had  slept  in  her  bosom  was  re- 
awakened. Too  late,  also,  the  folk  of  Calydon  remem- 
bered who  it  was  that  had  saved  them  from  slavery  and 
death.  Down  into  the  comfortless  halls  of  Hades, 
Althea  hastened  to  seek  her  son's  forgiveness.  The 
loving  heart  of  Cleopatra,  surcharged  with  grief,  was 
broken  ;  and  her  gentle  spirit  fled  to  the  world  of  shades 


Two  Famous  Boar  Hunts.  J  J 

to  meet  that  of  her  hero-husband.  And  Meleager's 
sisters  would  not  be  consoled,  so  great  was  the  sorrow 
which  had  come  upon  them ;  and  they  wept  and 
lamented  day  and  night,  until  kind  Artemis  in  pity  for 
their  youth  changed  them  into  the  birds  which  we  call 
Meleagrides." 

Lying  on  the  bearskins  at  his  grandfather's  feet,  and 
listening  to  stories  like  this,  Odysseus  did  not  feel  that 
time  was  burdensome.  The  wound  upon  his  knee 
healed  slowly ;  and  when  at  last  he  could  walk  again,  a 
white  scar,  as  long  and  as  broad  as  a  finger,  told  the 
story  of  his  combat  with  the  fierce  wild  boar.  By  this 
time  the  summer  was  far  spent,  and  the  bard  Phemius 
was  impatient  to  return  to  Ithaca. 

"The  grapes  in  your  father's  vineyard  are  growing 
purple,  and  his  orchards  are  laden  with  ripening  fruit," 
said  he  to  Odysseus  ;  "  and  the  days  are  near  at  hand 
when  your  anxious  mother  will  gaze  with  longing  over 
the  sea,  expecting  your  return." 

But  there  was  no  vessel  at  the  port  on  the  bay  to 
carry  them  home  by  the  nearest  way ;  and  days  and 
months  might  pass  ere  any  ship,  sent  thither  by 
Laertes,  would  arrive.  How,  then,  were  they  to  return 
to  Ithaca  ? 

"Here  is  your  uncle,  bold  Echion,  who  goes  to- 
morrow to  Iolcos  by  the  sea,  carrying  gifts  and  a 
message  from  Autolycus  to  old  King  Peleus.  We 
will  go  with  him." 


78  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

"  But  Iolcos  is  farther  still  from  Ithaca,"  said 
Odysseus. 

"True,"  answered  Phemius.  "But  from  Iolcos,  at 
this  season  of  the  year,  there  are  many  vessels  sailing 
to  Corinth  and  the  islands  of  the  sea.  Once  at  Corinth, 
and  we  shall  find  no  lack  of  ships  to  carry  us  across  the 
bay  of  Crissa  to  our  own  loved  Ithaca." 

And  thus  the  journey  home  was  planned.  It  was  a 
long  and  devious  route  by  way  of  Iolcos  and  the  Euboean 
Sea  ;  and  no  one  could  say  how  many  dangers  they 
might  meet,  or  how  many  delays  they  should  encounter. 
Yet  nothing  better  could  be  done,  if  they  would  return 
before  the  summer  ended. 

The  great  Autolycus  blessed  Odysseus  on  departing, 
and  gave  him  rich  gifts  of  gold  and  priceless  gems,  and 
many  words  of  sage  advice.  "  I  shall  see  thee  no 
more,"  he  said  ;  "  but  thy  name  shall  be  spoken  count- 
less ages  hence,  and  men  shall  say,  '  How  shrewd  and 
far-seeing,  brave  in  war,  and  wise  in  counsel,  was 
Odysseus ! ' " 


ADVENTURE    VII. 


AT  OLD   CHEIRON'S   SCHOOL. 

After  a  long,  hard  journey  by  land  and  sea, 
Odysseus  and  his  tutor,  with  bold  Echion,  came  to 
Iolcos.  Aged  Peleus,  king  of  Phthia  and  the  fertile 
plains  of  Iolcos,  greeted  them  with  show  of  heartiest 
welcome ;  for  he  remembered  that  Laertes  had  been 
his  friend  and  comrade  long  years  before,  when  to- 
gether on  the  Argo  they  sailed  the  briny  deep,  and 
he  was  glad  to  see  the  son  of  that  old  comrade ; 
and  he  took  Odysseus  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into 
his  palace,  and  gave  him  of  the  best  of  all  that 
he  had. 

"Tarry  with  me  for  a  month,''  he  said.  "  My  ships 
are  now  at  sea,  but  they  will  return ;  and  when  the 
moon  rises  again  full  and  round,  as  it  did  last  night,  I 
will  send  you  safe  to  Corinth  on  the  shores  of  the  Bay 
of  Crissa." 

And  so  Odysseus  and  the  bard  staid  a  whole  month 
at  Iolcos,  in  the  house  of  Peleus  the  king.  There  were 
feasting  and  merriment  in  the  halls  every  day ;  and  yet 
the  time  hung  heavily,  for  the  boy  longed  to  re-behold 

70 


80  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

his  own  loved  Ithaca,  and  could  hardly  wait  to  see  the 
moon  grow  full  and  round  again. 

"  What  mountain  is  that  which  looms  up  so  grandly 
on  our  left,  and  whose  sides  seem  covered  with  dark 
forests  ? "  asked  Odysseus  one  day,  as  he  walked  with 
his  tutor  beside  the  sea. 

"It  is  famous  Mount  Pelion,"  said  the  bard;  "and 
that  other  mountain  with  the  steeper  sides,  which 
stands  out  faintly  against  the  far  horizon,  is  the  scarcely 
less  famed  Ossa." 

"  I  have  heard  my  father  speak  of  piling  Pelion  upon 
Ossa,"  said  Odysseus,  "  but  I  cannot  understand  how 
that  can  be  done." 

"  There  were  once  two  brothers,  the  tallest  that  the 
grain -giving  earth  has  ever  reared,"  said  Phemius. 
"  Their  names  were  Otus  and  Ephialtes ;  and  they 
threatened  to  make  war  even  against  the  deathless 
ones  who  dwell  on  Mount  Olympus.  They  boasted 
that  they  would  pile  Ossa  on  Olympus,  and  Pelion, 
with  all  its  woods,  upon  the  top  of  Ossa,  that  so  they 
might  make  a  pathway  to  the  sky.  And,  had  they 
lived  to  manhood's  years,  no  one  can  say  what  deeds 
they  would  have  done.  But  silver-bowed  Apollo,  with 
his  swift  arrows,  slew  the  twain  ere  yet  the  down  had 
bloomed  upon  their  cheeks  or  darkened  their  chins 
with  the  promise  of  manhood.  And  so  Pelion  still 
stands  beside  the  sea,  and  Ossa,  in  its  own  place, 
guards  the  lovely  vale  of  Tempe."  * 

'  See  Odyssey,  Book  xi.  L  306. 


At  Old  C heir  on' s  School. 


"  Oh,  now  I  remember  something  else  about  Mount 
Pelion,"  cried  Odysseus.  "  It  was  from  the  trees  which 
grew  upon  its  sides,  that  the  ship  Argo  was  built. 
And  I  have  heard  my  father  tell  how  Cheiron  the 
Centaur  once  lived  in  a  cave  on  Pelion,  and  taught 
the  young  heroes  who  came  to  learn  of  him  ;  and  how 
young  Jason  came  down  the  mountain  one  day,  and 
boldly  stood  before  King  Pelias,  who  had  robbed  old 
iEson,  his  father,  of  the  kingdom  which  was  rightfully 
his.  Would  that  I  had  been  one  of  Cheiron's  pupils, 
and  had  shared  the  instruction  which  he  gave  to  those 
youthful  heroes ! " 

"The  old  Centaur  still  lives  in  his  cave  on  Mount 
Pelion,"  said  Phemius.  "To-morrow,  if  King  Peleus  is 
willing,  we  will  go  and  see  him." 

And  so,  the  next  day,  the  two  went  out  of  Iolcos, 
through  vineyards  and  fields  and  olive  orchards,  to- 
wards Pelion,  the  snow-crowned  warder  of  the  shore. 
They  followed  a  winding  pathway,  and  came  ere  long 
to  the  foot  of  the  mighty  mountain.  Above  them  were 
frowning  rocks,  and  dark  forests  of  pine,  which  seemed 
ready  to  fall  upon  and  crush  them.  But  among  the 
trees,  and  in  the  crannies  of  the  rocks,  there  grew 
thousands  of  sweetest  flowers,  and  every  kind  of  health- 
giving  herb,  and  tender  grass  for  the  mountain-climbing 
deer.  Up  and  up  they  climbed,  until  the  dark  forests 
gave  place  to  stunted  shrubs,  and  the  shrubs  to  barren 
rocks.  Then  the  pathway  led  downward  again  to  the 
head  of  a  narrow  glen,  where  roared  a  foaming  water- 


82  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

fall.  There  they  came  to  the  mouth  of  a  cave  opening 
out  upon  a  sunny  ledge,  and  almost  hidden  behind  a 
broad  curtain  of  blossoming  vines.  From  within  the 
cave  there  came  the  sound  of  music,  —  the  sweet 
tones  of  a  harp,  mingled  with  the  voices  of  singers. 

Of  what  did  they  sing  ? 

They  sang  of  things  pure  and  good  and  beautiful,  — 
of  the  mighty  sea,  and  the  grain-bearing  earth,  and  the 
blue  vault  of  heaven  ;  of  faith,  strong  and  holy  ;  of 
hope,  bright  and  trustful ;  of  love,  pure  and  mighty. 
Then  the  singing  ceased,  and  the  harp  was  laid  aside. 

Odysseus  and  the  bard  went  quickly  forward,  and 
stood  waiting  beside  the  wide-open  door.  They  could 
see,  by  looking  in,  that  the  low  walls  of  the  cave  were 
adorned  with  shields  of  leather  or  bronze,  with  the 
antlers  of  deer,  and  with  many  other  relics  of  battle 
or  of  the  chase.  Upon  the  smooth  white  floor  were 
soft  couches  of  bearskins ;  and  upon  the  hearthstone 
in  the  centre  blazed  a  bright  fire  of  twigs,  casting  a 
ruddy,  flickering  light  into  the  farthest  nook  and  cranny 
of  that  strange  room. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait  at  the  door.  An  old  man 
with  white  hair,  and  beard  reaching  to  his  waist,  with 
eyes  as  clear  and  bright  as  those  of  a  falcon,  and  with 
a  step  as  firm  as  that  of  youth,  came  quickly  forward  to 
greet  them.  Odysseus  thought  that  he  had  never  seen 
a  man  with  so  noble  and  yet  so  sad  a  mien. 

"  Hail,  strangers  ! "  said  the  aged  hero,  taking  theit 
hands.      "Hail,  son  of  Laertes  —  for  I  know  thee!-— 


At  Old  Cheiron  s  School.  83 

welcome  to  the  home  of  Cheiron,  the  last  of  his  race ! 
Come  in,  and  you  shall  be  kindly  entertained  ;  and  after 
you  have  rested  your  weary  limbs,  you  shall  tell  me 
why  you  have  come  to  Pelion,  and  what  favor  you 
have  to  ask  of  me." 

Therewith  he  turned  again  into  the  broad  cave-hall, 
and  Odysseus  and  his  tutor  followed  him.  And  he  led 
his  guests,  and  seated  them  on  pleasant  couches  not  far 
from  the  glowing  fire  upon  the  hearth.  Then  a  comely 
youth  brought  water  in  a  stone  pitcher,  and  poured  it 
in  a  basin,  that  they  might  wash  their  hands.  And 
another  lad  brought  wheaten  bread,  and  set  it  by  them 
on  a  polished  table  ;  and  another  brought  golden  honey 
in  the  honeycomb,  and  many  other  dainties,  and  laid 
them  on  the  board.  And  when  they  were  ready,  a 
fourth  lad  lifted  and  placed  before  them  a  platter  of 
venison,  and  cups  full  of  ice-cold  water  from  the  moun- 
tain cataract.  While  they  sat,  partaking  of  these  boun- 
ties, not  a  word  was  spoken  in  the  cave ;  for  old 
Cheiron  never  forgot  the  courtesy  due  to  guests  and 
strangers.  When  they  had  finished,  he  bade  them  stay 
a  while  upon  the  couches  where  they  sat ;  and  he  took  a 
golden  lyre  in  his  hands,  and  deftly  touched  the  chords, 
bringing  forth  the  most  restful  music  that  Odysseus  had 
ever  heard.  He  played  a  soft,  low  melody  which  seemed 
to  carry  their  minds  far  away  into  a  summer  land  of 
peace,  where  they  wandered  at  will  by  the  side  of  still 
waters,  and  through  sunlit  fields  and  groves,  and  re- 
posed under  the  shelter  of   calm  blue  skies,  shielded 


84  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

by  the  boundless  love  of  the  unknown  Creator.  When 
he  had  finished,  Odysseus  thought  no  more  of  the  toil* 
some  journey  from  Iolcos,  or  of  the  wearisome  climbing 
of  the  mountain :  he  thought  only  of  the  wise  and 
wonderful  old  man  who  sat  before  him 

"Now  tell  me,"  said  Cheiron,  laving  his  lyre  aside,  — 
"  tell  me  what  errand  brings  you  hither,  and  what  I  can 
do  to  aid  you." 

"We  have  no  errand,"  answered  Phemius,  "save  to 
see  one  of  the  immortals,  and  to  listen  to  the  words  of 
wisdom  and  beauty  which  fall  from  his  lips.  We  know 
that  you  have  been  the  friend  and  teacher  of  heroes 
such  as  have  not  had  their  peers  on  earth ;  and  this 
lad  Odysseus,  who  is  himself  the  son  of  a  hero,  would 
fain  learn  something  from  you." 

Cheiron  smiled,  and  looked  full  into  the  young  lad's 
face. 

"  I  have  trained  many  such  youths  as  you  for  the 
battle  of  life,"  he  said.  "  And  your  father,  as  were  all 
the  Argonauts,  was  well  known  to  me.  You  are  wel- 
come to  Mount  Pelion,  and  to  old  Cheiron's  schooL 
But  why  do  you  look  at  my  feet  ? " 

Odysseus  blushed,  but  could  make  no  answer. 

"  I  understand  it,"  said  Cheiron,  speaking  in  a  tone 
of  sadness.  "You  expected  to  find  me  half  man,  half 
horse,  and  you  were  looking  for  the  hoofs ;  for  thus 
have  many  men  thought  concerning  me  and  my  race. 
Long  time  ago  my  people  dwelt  in  the  valleys  and  upon 
the  plains  of  Thessaly;  and  they  were  the  first  who 


At  Old  C heir  on' s  School.  85 

tamed  the  wild  horses  of  the  desert  flats,  and  taught 
them  to  obey  the  hand  of  their  riders.  For  untold  years 
my  fathers  held  this  land,  and  they  were  as  free  as  the 
winds  that  play  upon  the  top  of  Pelion.  Their  war- 
riors, galloping  on  their  swift  horses  with  their  long 
lances  ready  in  their  hands,  knew  no  fear,  nor  met  any 
foe  that  could  stand  against  them;  and  hence  men 
called  them  Centaurs,1  the  piercers  of  the  air.  But  by 
and  by  there  came  a  strong  people  from  beyond  the 
sea,  who  built  houses  of  stone,  and  lived  in  towns  ;  and 
these  made  cruel  war  upon  the  swift-riding  Centaurs. 
They  were  the  Lapiths,2  the  stone-persuaders,  and  they 
had  never  seen  or  heard  of  horses  ;  and  for  a  long  time 
they  fancied  that  our  warriors  were  monsters,  half-steed, 
half-man,  living  wild  among  the  mountains  and  upon 
the  plain.  And  so  the  story  has  gone  abroad  through- 
out the  world,  that  all  the  Centaurs,  and  even  I,  the 
last  of  the  race,  are  hardly  human,  but  have  hoofs  and 
manes,  and  live  as  horses  live. 

"  Long  and  sad  was  the  war  between  the  Centaurs 
and  the  Lapiths ;  but  the  stone  -  persuaders  were 
stronger  than  the  piercers  of  the  air.  In  time,  my 
people  were  driven  into  the  mountains,  where  they 
lived  as  wild  men  in  the  caves,  and  in  the  sunless 
gorges  and  ravines ;  and  our  enemies,  the  Lapiths, 
abode  in  the  rich  valleys,  and  held  the  broad  pasture- 
lands  which  had  once  been  ours.  Then  it  chanced 
that  Peirithous,  king  of  the  Lapiths,  saw  Hippodameia-, 

1  From  (c«VT€if  ttjv  aiipav.  2  From  Aaa9  Treifleiv. 


86  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

fairest  of  our  mountain  maidens,  and  wished  to  wed 
her.  Whether  her  father  consented  to  the  marriage, 
or  whether  the  Lapiths  carried  her  away  by  force,  I 
cannot  tell ;  but  Peirithous  made  a  great  wedding  feast, 
and  to  it  he  invited  the  chiefs  of  the  Centaurs,  and 
great  Theseus  of  Athens,  and  Nestor  of  sandy  Pylos, 
and  many  others  of  the  noblest  heroes  of  Hellas. 
Many  wild  and  dark  stories  have  been  told  of  what 
happened  at  that  wedding  feast ;  but  you  must  remem- 
ber that  all  these  stories  have  come  from  the  mouths 
of  our  enemies,  the  stone-persuading  Lapiths,  and  that 
their  truth  may  well  be  doubted.  Let  me  tell  you  about 
it,  as  I  understand  the  facts  to  be  :  — 

"  In  the  midst  of  the  feast,  when  the  Lapiths  were 
drunken  with  wine,  Eurytion,  the  boldest  of  the  Cen- 
taurs, rose  quickly  to  his  feet,  and  beckoned  to  his 
fellows.  Without  a  word  they  seized  upon  the  bride ; 
they  carried  her,  not  unwilling,  from  the  hall ;  they 
seated  her  upon  a  swift  steed  which  stood  ready  at  the 
door  ;  then  in  hot  haste  they  mounted,  aiming  to  ride 
with  their  prize  back  to  their  mountain  homes.  But 
the  Lapiths  were  aroused,  and  rushed  from  the  hall 
ere  our  horsemen  were  outside  of  the  gates.  Fearful 
was  the  struggle  which  followed.  Our  men  were  armed 
with  pine  clubs  only,  which  they  had  hidden  beneath 
their  cloaks,  for  they  dared  not  bring  weapons  to  the 
wedding  feast.  The  Lapiths  fought  with  spears  ;  and 
with  pitiless  hate  they  slew  one  after  another  of  the 
Centaurs,    until  hardly  a  single   man   escaped   to   the 


At  Old  C heir  on  s  School. 


mountains.  But  the  war  ended  not  with  that ;  for 
Peirithous,  burning  with  anger,  drove  the  remnant  of 
my  people  out  of  their  mountain  homes,  and  forced 
them  to  flee  far  away  to  the  lonely  land  of  Pindus ;  and 
I,  alone  of  all  my  race,  was  left  in  my  cavern-dwelling 
on  the  wooded  slopes  of  Pelion." 

When  Cheiron  had  ended  his  story,  Odysseus  saw 
that  his  eyes  were  filled  with  tears,  and  that  his  hand 
trembled  as  he  reached  again  for  his  lyre,  and  played  a 
short,  sad  melody,  as  mournful  as  a  funeral  song. 

"  Why  did  you  not  go  with  your  kindred  to  the  land 
of  Pindus  ?  "  asked  Phemius. 

"This  is  my  home,"  answered  Cheiron.  "The  fair 
valley  which  you  see  yonder  was  once  my  father's 
pasture  land.  All  the  country  that  lies  before  us,  even 
to  the  meeting  of  the  earth  and  the  sky,  is  the  country 
of  my  forefathers.  I  have  neither  parents,  nor  brothers, 
nor  wife,  nor  children.  Why  should  I  wish  to  go  away 
from  all  that  is  dear  to  me  ?  This  is  a  pleasant  place, 
and  the  young  boys  who  have  been  my  pupils  have 
made  my  life  very  happy." 

"  Please  tell  us  about  your  pupils,"  said  Odysseus, 
moving  nearer  to  the  wise  old  man. 

"  So  many  boys  have  been  under  my  care,"  said 
Cheiron,  "that  I  could  not  tell  you  about  them  all. 
Some  have  come  and  been  taught,  and  gone  back 
to  their  homes  ;  and  the  world  has  never  heard  of 
them,  because  their  lots  have  been  cast  in  pleasant 
places,  and   their    lives    have    been    spent    in    peace. 


A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 


There  have  been  others  who  have  made  their  names 
famous  upon  the  earth  ;  for  their  paths  were  beset  with 
difficulties,  and  before  them  loomed  great  mountains 
which  they  must  needs  remove  or  be  crushed  by  them. 
Among  these  latter  were  Heracles,  doomed  to  a  life 
of  labor,  because  another  had  usurped  the  place  which 
he  should  have  had  ;  young  Jason,  hiding  from  the  cruel 
hatred  of  his  uncle  Pelias  ;  and  gentle  Asclepius,  bereft 
of  a  mother's  love,  and  cast  friendless  upon  the  world's 
^old  mercies.  And  there  were  also  Peleus  my  grand- 
son, who  is  now  your  host  at  Iolcos ;  and  Actaeon,  the 
camous  hunter ;  and  many  of  the  heroes  who  afterward 
sailed  on  the  Argo,  to  the  golden  strand  of  Colchis. 
Each  of  these  lads  had  a  mind  of  his  own,  and  tastes 
which  it  was  for  me  to  foster  and  to  train.  Heracles 
was  headstrong,  selfish,  impulsive,  —  terrible  when  he 
did  not  bridle  his  passions ;  and  yet  his  great  heart 
was  full  of  love  for  the  poor,  the  weak,  and  the  down- 
trodden, and  he  studied  to  make  plans  for  lightening 
their  burdens.  Jason  loved  the  water ;  and  wrapped  in 
his  cloak,  he  would  sit  for  hours  on  Pelion's  top,  and 
gaze  with  longing  eyes  upon  the  purple  sea.  Asclepius 
delighted  to  wander  among  the  crags  and  in  the  ravines 
<jf  Pelion,  gathering  herbs  and  flowers,  and  studying  the 
habits  of  birds  and  beasts.  And  Actaeon  had  a  passion 
for  the  woods  and  the  fields,  and  had  ever  a  pack  of 
swift  hounds  at  his  heels,  ready  for  the  chase  of  wild 
boar  or  mountain  deer. 

"  When  these  lads  came  to  me,  I  saw  that  I  must  give 


At  Old  Cheiron's  School,  89 

to  each  the  food  which  was  best  fitted  for  his  needs,  and 
which  his  mind  most  craved.  Had  I  dealt  with  all 
alike,  and  taught  all  the  same  lessons,  I  doubt  if  any 
would  have  grown  to  manhood's  full  estate.  But,  wkile 
I  curbed  the  headstrong  will  of  Heracles,  I  did  what  I 
could  to  foster  his  love  of  virtue  and  his  inventive 
genius ;  I  taught  young  Jason  all  that  I  knew  about 
this  wonderful  earth,  and  the  seas  and  islands  which  lie 
around  it ;  I  led  Asclepius  farther  along  the  pathway 
which  he  had  chosen,  and  showed  him  the  virtues  that 
were  hidden  in  plants  and  flowers  ;  I  went  with  Actseon 
upon  the  chase,  and  taught  him  that  there  is  no  sport 
in  cruelty,  and  that  the  life  of  the  weakest  creature 
should  not  be  taken  without  good  cause.  Thus  I 
moulded  the  mind  of  each  of  the  lads  according  to 
its  bent ;  and  each  one  grew  in  stature  and  in  strength 
and  in  beauty,  before  my  eyes.  And  then  there  were 
general  lessons  which  I  gave  to  them  all,  leading  them 
to  the  knowledge  of  those  things  which  are  necessary 
to  the  well-equipped  and  perfect  man  of  our  day.  I 
taught  them  how  to  wield  the  weapons  of  warfare  and 
of  the  chase ;  how  to  ride  and  to  swim ;  and  how  to 
bear  fatigue  without  murmuring,  and  face  danger  with- 
out fear.  And  I  showed  them  how  to  take  care  of 
their  own  bodies,  so  that  they  might  be  strong  and 
graceful,  and  full  of  health  and  vigor;  and  I  taught 
them  how  to  heal  diseases,  and  how  to  treat  wounds, 
and  how  to  nurse  the  sick.  And,  more  than  all  else, 
I  taught  them  to  reverence  and  love  that  great  Power, 


90  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

so  little  understood  by  us,  but  whom  mankind  will  some 
day  learn  to  know. 

"  It  was  not  long  till  Heracles  went  out  in  his  might 
to  rid  the  world  of  monsters,  to  defend  the  innocent 
and  the  helpless,  and  to  set  right  that  which  is  wrong ; 
and,  for  aught  I  know,  he  is  toiling  still  along  the 
straight  road  of  Virtue,  towards  the  blue  mountains  of 
Fame.  And  Jason,  as  you  know,  left  me,  and  went 
down  to  Iolcos,  to  claim  his  birthright  of  old  Pelias  ; 
and  being  bidden  to  bring  the  Golden  Fleece  to  Hellas, 
he  built  the  Argo,  and  sailed  with  the  heroes  to  far- 
away Colchis.  It  was  a  proud  day  for  me,  his  old 
teacher,  when  he  came  back  to  Iolcos  with  the  glitter- 
ing treasure ;  and  I  trusted  that  a  life  of  happiness  and 
glory  was  before  him.  But,  alas  !  he  had  forgotten  my 
teaching,  and  had  joined  himself  to  evil ;  and  Medea 
the  witch,  whom  he  loved,  brought  untold  misery  upon 
his  head,  and  drove  him  ere  long  to  an  untimely 
death. 

"  Then  Asclepius  went  out  upon  his  mission  ;  and 
everywhere  that  he  went,  he  healed  and  purified  and 
raised  and  blessed.  He  was  the  greatest  conqueror 
among  all  my  pupils  ;  but  he  won,  not  by  strength  like 
Heracles,  nor  by  guile  like  Jason,  but  through  gentle- 
ness and  sympathy  and  brotherly  love,  and  by  knowl- 
edge and  skill  and  patient  self-sacrifice ;  and  to  him 
men  gave  the  highest  honor,  because  he  cured  while 
others  killed.  But  the  powers  of  darkness  are  ever 
hateful  towards  the  good ;  and  Hades,  when  he  saw 


At  Old  C heir  on  s  School.  91 

that  Asclepius  snatched  back  to  life  even  those  who 
were  at  death's  door,  complained  that  the  great  healer 
was  robbing  his  kingdom.  And  men  say  that  Zeus 
hearkened  to  this  complaint,  and  that  he  smote  Ascle- 
pius with  his  thunderbolts.  Then  the  face  of  the  sun 
was  veiled  in  sorrow,  and  men  and  beasts  and  all  crea- 
tures upon  the  earth  wept  for  great  grief,  and  the  trees 
dropped  their  leaves  to  the  ground,  and  the  flowers 
closed  their  petals  and  withered  upon  their  stalks,  be- 
cause the  gentle  physician,  who  had  cured  all  pains  and 
sickness,  was  no  longer  in  the  land  of  the  living.  And 
the  wrath  of  silver-bowed  Apollo  was  stirred  within  him, 
and  he  went  down  to  the  great  smithy  of  Hephaestus, 
and,  with  his  swift  arrows,  slew  the  Cyclopes  who  had 
forged  the  thunderbolts  for  Zeus,  and  spared  not  one. 
Then  Zeus  in  his  turn  was  filled  with  anger ;  and  he 
sent  the  golden-haired  Apollo  to  Pherae,  in  Thessaly, 
to  serve  for  a  whole  year  as  bondsman  to  King 
Admetus."  ' 

At  this  moment,  a  tall  and  very  handsome  lad,  whom 
Odysseus  had  not  yet  seen,  came  into  the  room.  He 
was  not  more  than  six  years  old ;  his  long  amber  hair 
fell  in  waves  upon  his  shoulders  ;  his  eyes  twinkled  and 
flashed  like  the  sunlight  on  the  blue  sea  waves ;  he 
held  his  head  erect,  and  he  walked  with  a  noble  grace 
which  betokened  the  proud  soul  within  his  breast. 
The  eyes  of  Odysseus  were  fixed  upon  him,  and  he 
wondered   who    this    noble    human    being    could    be. 

1  See  Note  7  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


92  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

Cheiron  saw  his  questioning  look,  and  called  the  young 
lad  to  him. 

"Odysseus,"  said  he,  "this  is  my  great-grandchild, 
young  Achilles,  the  son  of  King  Peleus  your  host. 
Something  tells  me  that  your  life  and  his  will  in  after- 
times  be  strangely  mingled  ;  whether  as  friends  or  as 
foes,  I  cannot  tell.  You  shall  be  friends  to-day,  at 
least,  and  after  a  while  you  shall  go  out  together,  and 
try  your  skill  at  archery.  But,  Achilles,  you  may  go 
now  and  play  with  your  fellows  :  I  have  something 
more  to  say  to  young  Odysseus." 

The  lad  turned,  and  left  the  room  as  gracefully  as  he 
had  entered.  Then  Cheiron  turned  again  to  Odysseus 
and  the  bard. 

"  I  was  telling  you  about  my  pupils,"  he  said  ;  "  and 
I  will  speak  of  but  one  other,  for  there  are  reasons 
why  you  should  know  his  history.  Peleus,  the  son  of 
iEacus  and  my  loved  daughter  Endeis,  was  brought  to 
me  by  his  mother  from  JEgina..  There  was  something 
in  the  boy's  face  which  showed  that  a  strange,  sad  life 
was  to  be  his  ;  and,  although  he  was  not  a  promising 
lad,  yet  when  he  left  me  to  go  with  Jason  to  Colchis, 
I  felt  great  grief  at  losing  him.  But  by  and  by,  after 
the  heroes  had  returned,  I  heard  that  Peleus  had  done 
many  wicked  things  in  JEg'ma.,  and  that  he  had  been 
driven  into  exile  for  his  crimes.  He  went  first  to  Ceyx 
in  Thessaly,  a  lonely  wanderer,  cast  off  and  forsaken 
by  all  his  friends.  And  a  story  is  told,  that  in  his  lone- 
liness and  his  sorrow,  he  one  day  prayed  to  Zeus  that 


At  Old  C  heir  on  s  School.  93 

he  would  give  him  companions.  And  Zeus  heard  his 
prayer,  and  great  armies  of  ants  were  changed  at  once 
into  men ;  and  they  did  homage  to  Peleus,  and  became 
his  subjects,  and  hence  he  is  still  called  the  King 
of  the  Myrmidons.  Then  he  went  to  Phthia  where 
Eurytion  reigned.  And  Eurytion  purified  him  from 
his  crimes,  and  gave  him  his  daughter  Antigone  in 
wedlock,  and  with  her  the  third  of  his  kingdom.  But 
in  an  evil  day  they  hunted  the  wild  boar  together  in 
the  woods  of  Calydon,  and  Peleus  unwittingly  slew  his 
friend  with  an  ill-aimed  arrow.  Then  he  fled  from 
the  people  of  Phthia,  and  came  to  Iolcos,  where  Acas- 
tus,  the  son  of  old  Pelias,  ruled.  And  Acastus  wel- 
comed him  kindly,  and  purified  him  from  the  stain  of 
Eurytion's  death,  and  gave  him  of  the  best  of  all  that 
he  had,  and  entertained  him  for  a  long  time  as  his 
guest.  But  Astydamia,  the  wife  of  King  Acastus, 
falsely  accused  Peleus  of  another  crime,  and  besought 
her  husband  to  slay  him.  Then  the  heart  of  Acastus 
was  sad,  for  he  would  not  shed  the  blood  of  one  who 
was  his  guest.  But  he  persuaded  Peleus  to  join  him  in 
hunting  wild  beasts  in  the  woods  of  Pelion ;  for  he 
hoped  that  then  some  way  might  open  for  him  to  rid 
himself  of  the  unfortunate  man.  All  day  long  they 
toiled  up  and  down  the  slopes ;  they  climbed  the  steep 
cliffs  ;  they  forced  their  way  through  brakes  and  briery 
thickets ;  and  at  last  Peleus  was  so  overwearied  that 
he  sank  down  on  a  bed  of  moss,  and  fell  asleep.  Then 
Acastus  slyly  took  his  weapons  from  him,  and  left  him 


94  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

there  alone  and  unarmed,  hoping  that  the  wild  beasts 
would  find  and  slay  him.  When  Peleus  awoke,  he 
saw  himself  surrounded  by  mountain  robbers ;  he  felt 
for  his  sword,  but  it  was  gone ;  even  his  shield  was 
nowhere  to  be  found.  He  called  aloud  to  Acastus,  but 
the  king  was  dining  at  that  moment  in  Iolcos.  I 
heard  his  cry,  however;  I  knew  his  voice,  and  I  has- 
tened to  his  aid.  The  robbers  fled  when  they  saw  me 
coming ;  and  I  led  my  dear  but  erring  grandson  back  to 
my  cavern,  where  the  days  of  his  boyhood  and  inno- 
cence had  been  spent. 

"  But  I  see  that  the  sun  is  sinking  in  the  west.  I 
will  say  no  more  until  after  we  have  partaken  of  food." 

With  these  words  Cheiron  arose,  and  left  the  room. 
Odysseus,  anxious  to  become  acquainted  with  the  lads, 
arose  also,  and  walked  out  into  the  open  air.  Achilles 
was  waiting  for  him  just  outside  the  door,  and  the  two 
boys  were  soon  talking  with  each  other  as  if  they  had 
long  been  friends. 


ADVENTURE   VIII. 


THE   GOLDEN  APPLE. 

After  the  evening  meal  had  been  eaten  and  the  cave- 
hall  set  in  order,  the  lads  brought  armloads  of  dry  sticks 
and  twigs,  and  threw  them  upon  the  fire.  And  the 
flame  leaped  up,  and  shone  upon  all  around  with  a  ruddy 
glow ;  and  the  great  cavern  was  emptied  of  gloom,  and 
was  so  filled  with  light  and  warmth  that  it  seemed  a  fit 
place  for  joy  and  pleasure.  Old  Cheiron  sat  upon  his 
high  couch  like  a  king  upon  his  throne ;  and  the  five 
comely  lads,  with  Odysseus,  sat  before  him,  while 
Phemius  the  bard  stood  leaning  against  the  wall.  After 
Cheiron  had  played  a  brief  melody  upon  his  harp,  and 
the  boys  had  sung  a  pleasant  song,  the  wise  old  master 
thus  began  :  — 

"  There  is  a  cavern  somewhere  on  Mount  Pelion 
larger  by  far  and  a  thousand  times  more  beautiful  than 
this ;  but  its  doorway  is  hidden  to  mortals,  and  but  few 
men  have  ever  stood  beneath  its  vaulted  roof.  In  that 
cavern  the  ever-living  ones  who  oversee  the  affairs  of 
men,  once  held  high  carnival;   for  they  had  met  there 

95 


96  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

at  the  marriage  feast  of  King  Peleus,  and  the  woods 
and  rocks  of  mighty  Pelion  echoed  with  the  sound  of 
their  merry  making.  But  wherefore  should  the  mar- 
riage feast  of  a  mortal  be  held  in  such  a  place  and  with 
guests  so  noble  and  so  great  ?     I  will  tell  you. 

"  After  Peleus  had  escaped  from  the  plot  which  King 
Acastus  had  laid  for  him,  he  dwelt  long  time  with  me ; 
for  he  feared  to  go  down  upon  the  plain  lest  the  men 
of  Iolcos  should  seize  him  by  order  of  Acastus,  or  the 
folk  of  Phthia  should  kill  him  in  revenge  for  old  Eury- 
tion's  death.  But  the  days  seemed  long  to  him,  thus 
shut  out  from  fellowship  with  men,  and  the  sun  seemed 
to  move  slowly  in  the  heavens ;  and  often  he  would 
walk  around  to  the  other  side  of  the  mountain,  and 
sitting  upon  a  great  rock,  he  would  gaze  for  long  hours 
upon  the  purple  waters  of  the  sea.  One  morning  as 
thus  he  sat,  he  saw  the  sea  nymph  Thetis  come  up  out 
of  the  waves  and  walk  upon  the  shore  beneath  him. 
Fairer  than  a  dream  was  she,  —  more  beautiful  than 
any  picture  of  nymph  or  goddess.  She  was  clad  in  a 
robe  of  sea-green  silk,  woven  by  the  Naiads  in  their 
watery  grottos ;  and  there  was  a  chaplet  of  pearls  upon 
her  head,  and  sandals  of  sparkling  silver  were  upon  her 
feet. 

"  As  Peleus  gazed  upon  this  lovely  creature,  he  heard 
a  voice  whispering  in  his  ear.  It  was  the  voice  of 
Pallas  Athene^ 

" '  Most  luckless  of  mortal  men,*  she  said,  '  there  is 
recompense  in   store  for  those   who  repent  of  theif 


THE   SILVER-FOOTED   THETIS    RISING    FROM    THE   WAVES. 


The  Golden  Apple.  97 

wrong-doing,  and  who,  leaving  the  paths  of  error,  turn 
again  to  the  road  of  virtue.  The  immortals  have  seen 
thy  sorrow  for  the  evil  deeds  of  thy  youth,  and  they 
have  looked  with  pity  upon  thee  in  thy  misfortunes. 
And  now  thy  days  of  exile  and  of  sore  punishment  are 
drawing  to  an  end.  Behold  the  silver-footed  Thetis, 
most  beautiful  of  the  nymphs  of  the  sea,  whom  even 
the  immortals  have  wooed  in  vain  !  She  has  been  sent 
to  this  shore,  to  be  won  and  wedded  by  thee.' 

"  Peleus  looked  up  to  see  the  speaker  of  these  words, 
but  he  beheld  only  a  blue  cloud  resting  above  the 
mountain-top  ;  he  turned  his  eyes  downward  again,  and, 
to  his  grief,  the  silver-footed  Thetis  had  vanished  in  the 
waves.  All  day  he  sat  and  waited  for  her  return,  but 
she  came  not.  When  darkness  began  to  fall  he  sought 
me  in  my  cave-hall,  and  told  me  what  he  had  seen  and 
heard  ;  and  I  taught  him  bow  to  win  the  sea  nymph  for 
his  bride. 

"  So  when  the  sun  again  gilded  the  crags  of  Pelion, 
brave  Peleus  hid  himself  among  the  rocks  close  by 
the  sea-washed  shore,  and  waited  for  the  coming  of  the 
silver-footed  lady  of  the  sea.  In  a  little  time  she  rose, 
beautiful  as  the  star  of  morning,  from  the  waves.  She 
sat  down  upon  the  beach,  and  dallied  with  her  golden 
tresses,  and  sang  sweet  songs  of  a  happy  land  in  the 
depths  of  the  sounding  sea.  Peleus,  bearing  in  mind 
what  I  had  taught  him,  arose  from  his  hiding-place,  and 
caught  the  beauteous  creature  in  his  arms.  In  vain 
did  she  struggle  to  leap  into  the  waves.     Seven  times 


98  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

she  changed  her  form  as  he  held  her :  by  turns  she 
changed  into  a  fountain  of  water,  into  a  cloud  of  mist, 
into  a  burning  flame,  and  into  a  senseless  rock.  But 
Peleus  held  her  fast;  and  she  changed  then  into  a 
tawny  lion,  and  then  into  a  tall  tree,  and  lastly  she  took 
her  own  matchless  form  again. 

"  And  Peleus  held  the  lovely  Thetis  by  the  hand,  and 
they  walked  long  time  together  upon  the  beach,  while 
the  birds  sang  among  the  leafy  trees  on  Pelion's  slopes, 
and  the  dolphins  sported  in  the  sparkling  waters  at  their 
feet ;  and  Peleus  wooed  the  silver-footed  lady,  and  won 
her  love,  and  she  promised  to  be  his  bride.  Then  the 
immortals  were  glad  ;  and  they  fitted  up  the  great  cavern 
on  Mount  Pelion  for  a  banquet  hall,  and  made  therein 
a  wedding  feast,  such  as  was  never  seen  before.  The 
vaulted  roof  of  the  cavern  was  decked  with  gems  which 
shone  like  the  stars  of  heaven  ;  a  thousand  torches, 
held  by  lovely  mountain  nymphs,  flamed  from  the  niches 
in  the  high  walls  ;  and  upon  the  floor  of  polished  marble, 
tables  for  ten  thousand  guests  were  ranged. 

"  When  the  wedding  feast  was  ready,  all  those  who 
live  on  high  Olympus,  and  all  the  immortals  who  dwell 
upon  the  earth,  came  to  rejoice  with  King  Peleus  and 
his  matchless  bride  ;  and  they  brought  rich  presents  for 
the  bridegroom,  such  as  were  never  given  to  another 
man.  They  gave  him  a  suit  of  armor,  rich  and  fair,  a 
wonder  to  behold,  which  lame  Hephaestus  with  rare 
skill  had  wrought  and  fashioned.  Poseidon  bestowed  on 
him  the  deathless  horses,  Balios  and  Xanthos,  and  a 


The  Golden  Apple.  99 

deftly-wrought  chariot  with  trimmings  of  gold.  And  I, 
one  of  the  least  of  the  guests,  gave  him  an  ashen  spear 
which  I  had  cut  on  Pelion's  top,  and  fashioned  with  my 
own  hands. 

"  At  the  table  sat  Zeus,  the  father  of  gods  and  men ; 
and  his  wife,  the  white-armed  Here  ;  and  smile-loving 
Aphrodite  ;  and  gray-eyed  Pallas  Athene1 ;  and  all  the 
wisest  and  the  fairest  of  the  immortals.  The  Nereides, 
nymphs  of  the  sea,  danced  in  honor  of  Thetis  their 
sister ;  and  the  Muses  sang  their  sweetest  songs  ;  and 
silver-bowed  Apollo  played  upon  the  lyre.  The  Fates, 
too,  were  there :  sad  Clotho,  twirling  her  spindle ;  un- 
loving Lachesis,  with  wrinkled  lips  ready  to  speak  the 
fatal  word;  and  pitiless  Atropos,  holding  in  her  hand 
the  unsparing  shears.  And  around  the  table  passed  the 
youthful  and  joy-giving  Hebe,  pouring  out  rich  draughts 
of  nectar  for  the  guests. 

"Yet  there  was  one  among  all  the  immortals  who 
nad  not  been  invited  to  the  wedding ;  it  was  Eris,  the 
daughter  of  War  and  Hate.  Her  scowling  features, 
and  her  hot  and  hasty  manners,  were  ill-suited  to  grace 
a  feast  where  all  should  be  mirth  and  gladness ;  yet  in 
her  evil  heart  she  planned  to  be  avenged  for  the  slight 
which  had  been  put  upon  her.  While  the  merry-making 
was  at  its  height,  and  the  company  were  listening  to 
the  music  from  Apollo's  lyre,  she  came  unseen  into  the 
hall,  and  threw  a  golden  apple  upon  the  table.  No  one 
knew  whence  the  apple  came ;  but  on  it  were  written 
these  words,  ■  For  the  Fairest.' 


lOO  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

"  *  To  whom  does  it  belong  ? '  asked  Zeus,  stroking 
his  brows  in  sad  perplexity. 

"The  music  ceased,  and  mirth  and  jollity  fled  at  once 
from  the  banquet.  The  torches,  which  lit  up  the  scene, 
flickered  and  smoked ;  the  lustre  of  the  gems  in  the 
vaulted  roof  was  dimmed ;  dark  clouds  canopied  the 
great  hall :  for  Discord  had  taken  her  place  at  the  table, 
uninvited  and  unwelcome  though  she  was. 

"'The  apple  belongs  to  me,'  said  Here,  trying  to 
snatch  it;  'for  I  am  the  queen,  and  gods  and  men 
honor  me  as  having  no  peer  on  earth.' 

"  '  Not  so ! '  cried  white-armed  Aphrodite.     '  With  me 

\well  Love  and  Joy  ;  and  not  only  do  gods  and  m» 

^ng  my  praises,  but  all  nature  rejoices  in  my  presence. 
The  apple  is  mine,  and  I  will  have  it ! ' 

"Then  Athene  joined  in  the  quarrel.  '  What  is  it  to 
be  a  queen,'  said  she,  'if  at  the  same  time  one  lacks 
that  good  temper  which  sweetens  life  ?  What  is  it  to 
have  a  handsome  form  and  face,  while  the  mind  is  un- 
couth and  ill-looking  ?  Beauty  of  mind  is  better  than 
beauty  of  face ;  for  the  former  is  immortal,  while  the 
latter  fades  and  dies.  Hence  no  one  has  a  better  right 
than  I  to  be  called  the  fairest.' 

"Then  the  strife  spread  among  the  guests  in  the  hall, 
each  taking  sides  with  the  goddess  that  he  loved  best; 
and,  where  peace  and  merriment  had  reigned,  now  hot 
words  and  bitter  wrangling  were  heard.  And  had  not 
Zeus  bidden  them  keep  silence,  thus  putting  an  end  to 
the  quarrel,  all  Pel  ion  would  have  been  rent,  and  the 


The  Golden  Apple.  101 

earth  shaken  to  its  centre  in  the  melee  that  would 
have  followed. 

" '  Let  us  waste  no  words  over  this  matter,'  he  said. 
'  It  is  not  for  the  immortals  to  say  who  of  their  num- 
ber is  most  beautiful.  But  on  the  slopes  of  Mount  Ida, 
far  across  the  sea,  the  fairest  of  the  sons  of  men  — 
Paris,  the  son  of  Trojan  Priam  —  keeps  his  flocks;  let 
him  judge  who  is  fairest,  and  let  the  apple  be  hers  to 
whom  he  gives  it.' 

"Then  Hermes,  the  swift-footed  messenger,  arose, 
and  led  the  three  goddesses  over  sea  and  land  to  distant 
Ida,  where  Paris,  with  no  thought  of  the  wonderful  life 
which  lay  before  him,  piped  on  his  shepherd's  reeds, 
and  tended  his  flock  of  sheep." 

Here  Cheiron  paused  in  his  story ;  and  the  five  lads, 
who  had  heard  it  oftentimes  before,  bade  him  a  kind 
good-night,  and  withdrew  into  an  inner  chamber  to 
pass  the  hours  in  sleep.  When  more  wood  had  been 
thrown  upon  the  fire,  and  the  flames  leaped  up  high 
and  bright  towards  the  roof  of  the  cave,  Odysseus 
and  Phemius  sat  down  again  before  the  wise  old  mas- 
ter, and  asked  him  to  finish  the  tale  which  he  had 
begun. 

"But  first  tell  us,"  said  Odysseus,  "about  that  Paris, 
who  was  to  award  the  golden  apple  to  the  one  whom 
he  should  deem  the  fairest." 

Then  Cheiron  smiled,  and  went  on  thus  with  his 
story:  — 


102  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"On  the  other  side  of  the  sea  there  stands  a  city, 
rich  and  mighty,  the  like  of  which  there  is  none  in 
Hellas.  There  an  old  man,  named  Priam,  rules  over  a 
happy  and  peace-loving  people.  He  dwells  in  a  great 
palace  of  polished  marble,  on  a  hill  overlooking  the 
plain ;  and  his  granaries  are  stored  with  corn,  and  his 
flocks  and  herds  are  pastured  on  the  hills  and  mountain 
slopes  behind  the  city.  Many  sons  has  King  Priam ; 
and  they  are  brave  and  noble  youths,  well  worthy  of 
such  a  father.  The  eldest  of  these  sons  is  Hector,  who, 
the  Trojans  hope,  will  live  to  bring  great  honor  to  his 
native  land.  Just  before  the  second  son  was  born,  a 
strange  thing  troubled  the  family  of  old  Priam.  The 
queen  had  dreamed  that  her  babe  had  turned  into  a 
firebrand,  which  burned  up  the  walls  and  the  high 
towers  of  Troy,  and  left  but  smouldering  ashes  where 
once  the  proud  city  stood.  She  told  the  king  her 
dream  ;  and  when  the  child  was  born,  they  called  a 
soothsayer,  who  could  foresee  the  mysteries  of  the 
future,  and  they  asked  him  what  the  vision  meant. 

" '  It  means,'  said  he,  'that  this  babe,  if  he  lives,  shall 
be  a  firebrand  in  Troy,  and  shall  turn  its  walls  and  its 
high  towers  into  heaps  ot  smouldering  ashes.' 

"'But  what  shall  be  done  with  the  child,  that  he 
may  not  do  this  terrible  thing  ? "  asked  Priam,  greatly 
sorrowing,  for  the  babe  was  very  beautiful. 

"'Do  not  suffer  that  he  shall  live,'  answered  the 
soothsayer. 

"  But  Priam,  the  gentlest  and  most  kind-hearted  ot 


The  Golden  Apple.  103 

men,  could  not  bear  to  harm  the  babe.  So  he  called 
Archelaus,  his  master  shepherd,  and  bade  him  take 
the  helpless  child  into  the  thick  woods,  which  grow 
high  up  on  the  slopes  of  Ida,  and  there  to  leave  him 
alone.  The  wild  beasts  that  roam  among  those  woods, 
he  thought,  would  doubtless  find  him,  or,  in  any  case, 
he  could  not  live  long  without  care  and  nourishment ; 
and  thus  the  dangerous  brand  would  be  quenched  while 
yet  it  was  scarcely  a  spark. 

"The  shepherd  did  as  he  was  bidden,  although  it 
cost  his  heart  many  a  sharp  pang  thus  to  deal  barbar- 
ously with  the  innocent.  He  laid  the  smiling  infant, 
wrapped  in  its  broidered  tunic,  close  by  the  foot  of  an 
oak,  and  then  hurried  away  that  he  might  not  hear 
its  cries.  But  the  Dryads,  who  haunt  the  woods  and 
groves,  saw  the  babe,  and  pitied  its  helplessness,  and 
cared  for  it  so  that  it  did  not  die.  Some  brought  it 
yellow  honey  from  the  stores  of  the  wild  bees  ;  some  fed 
it  with  milk  from  the  white  goats  that  pastured  on  the 
mountainside ;  and  others  stood  as  sentinels  around 
it,  guarding  it  from  the  wolves  and  bears.  Thus  five 
clays  passed,  and  Archelaus  the  shepherd,  who  could 
not  forget  the  babe,  came  cautiously  to  the  spot  to  see 
if,  mayhap,  even  its  broidered  cloak  had  been  spared 
by  the  beasts.  Sorrowful  and  shuddering  he  glanced 
toward  the  foot  of  the  tree.  To  his  surprise,  the  babe 
was  still  there ;  it  looked  up  and  smiled,  and  stretched 
its  fat  hands  toward  him.  The  shepherd's  heart  would 
not  let  him  turn  away  the  second  time.     He  took  the 


104  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

child  in  his  arras,  and  carried  it  to  his  own  humble  home 
in  the  valley,  where  he  cared  for  it  and  brought  it  up 
as  his  own  son. 

"  The  boy  grew  to  be  very  tall  and  very  handsome ; 
and  he  was  so  brave,  and  so  helpful  to  the  shepherds 
around  Mount  Ida,  that  they  called  him  Alexandros,  or 
the  helper  of  men ;  but  his  foster-father  named  him 
Paris.  And  as  he  tended  his  sheep  in  the  mountain 
dells,  he  met  CEnone,  the  fairest  of  the  river-maidens, 
guileless  and  pure  as  the  waters  of  the  stream  by  whose 
banks  she  loved  to  wander.  Day  after  day  he  sat  with 
her  in  the  shadow  of  her  woodland  home,  and  talked  of 
innocence  and  beauty,  and  of  a  life  of  sweet  content- 
ment, and  of  love  ;  and  the  maiden  listened  to  him  with 
wide-open  eyes  and  a  heart  full  of  trustfulness  and  faith. 
Then,  by  and  by,  Paris  and  QEnone  were  wedded ;  and 
their  little  cottage  in  the  mountain  glen  was  the  fairest 
and  happiest  spot  in  Ilios.  The  days  sped  swiftly  by, 
and  neither  of  them  dreamed  that  any  sorrow  was  in 
store  for  them ;  and  to  CEnone  her  shepherd-husband 
was  all  the  world,  because  he  was  so  noble  and  brave 
and  handsome  and  gentle. 

"  One  warm  summer  afternoon,  Paris  sat  in  the  shade 
of  a  tree  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Ida,  while  his  flocks  were 
pasturing  upon  the  hillside  before  him.  The  bees 
were  humming  lazily  among  the  flowers  ;  the  cicadas 
were  chirping  among  the  leaves  above  his  head ;  and 
now  and  then  a  bird  twittered  softly  among  the  bushes 
behind  him.     All  else  was  still,  as  if  enjoying  to  the 


The  Golden  Apple.  105 


full  the  delicious  calm  of  that  pleasant  day.  Paris  was 
fashioning  a  slender  reed  into  a  shepherd's  flute  ;  while 
CEnone,  sitting  in  the  deeper  shadows  of  some  cluster- 
ing vines,  was  busy  with  some  simple  piece  of  needle- 
work. A  sound  as  of  sweet  music  caused  the  young 
shepherd  to  raise  his  eyes.  Before  him  stood  the  four 
immortals,  Here,  Athen6,  Aphrodite,  and  Hermes  the 
messenger ;  their  faces  shone  with  a  dazzling  radiance, 
and  they  were  fairer  than  any  tongue  can  describe.  At 
their  feet  rare  flowers  sprang  up,  crocuses  and  aspho- 
dels and  white  lilies  ;  and  the  air  was  filled  with  the 
odor  of  orange  blossoms.  Paris,  scarce  knowing  what 
he  did,  arose  to  greet  them.  No  handsomer  youth  ever 
stood  in  the  presence  of  beauty.  Straight  as  a  moun- 
tain pine  was  he ;  a  leopard  skin  hung  carelessly  upon 
his  shoulders ;  his  head  was  bare,  but  his  locks  clus- 
tered round  his  temples  in  sunny  curls,  and  formed  fit 
framework  for  his  fair  brows. 

"Then  Hermes  spoke  first :  '  Paris,  we  have  come  to 
seek  thy  help  ;  there  is  strife  among  the  folk  who  dwell 
on  Mount  Olympus.  Here  are  Here,  Athen6,  and  Aph- 
rodite, each  claiming  to  be  the  fairest,  and  each  clamor- 
ing for  this  prize,  this  golden  apple.  Now  we  pray  that 
you  will  judge  this  matter,  and  give  the  apple  to  the 
one  whom  you  may  deem  most  beautiful.' 

"  Then  Here  began  her  plea  at  once :  '  I  know  that 
I  am  the  fairest,'  she  said,  'for  I  am  queen,  and  mine 
it  is  to  rule  among  gods  and  men.  Give  me  the 
prize,  and  you  shall  have  wealth,  and  a  kingdom,  and 


106  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

great  glory;  and  men  in  after-times  shall  sing  your 
praises.' 

"  And  Paris  was  half  tempted  to  give  the  apple,  with- 
out further  ado,  to  Here  the  proud  queen.  But  gray- 
eyed  Athene  spoke  :  '  There  is  that,  fair  youth,  which 
is  better  than  riches  or  honor  or  great  glory.  Listen 
to  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  wisdom  and  a  pure  heart ; 
and  thy  life  shall  be  crowned  with  peace,  and  sweetened 
with  love,  and  made  strong  by  knowledge.  And  though 
men  may  not  sing  of  thee  in  after-times,  thou  shalt  find 
lasting  happiness  in  the  answer  of  a  good  conscience 
towards  all  things.' 

"Then  CEnone  whispered  from  her  place  among  the 
leaves,  'Give  the  prize  to  Athene1 ;  she  is  the  fairest.' 
And  Paris  would  have  placed  the  golden  apple  in  her 
hand,  had  not  Aphrodite  stepped  quickly  forward,  and 
in  the  sweetest,  merriest  tones,  addressed  him. 

" '  You  may  look  at  my  face,  and  judge  for  yourself  as 
to  whether  I  am  fair,'  said  she,  laughing,  and  tossing 
her  curls.  '  All  I  shall  say  is  this  :  Give  me  the  prize, 
and  you  shall  have  for  your  wife  the  most  beautiful 
woman  in  the  world.' 

"  The  heart  of  CEnone  stood  still  as  Paris  placed  the 
apple  in  Aphrodite's  hand  ;  and  a  nameless  dread  came 
over  her,  as  if  the  earth  were  sinking  beneath  her  feet. 
But  the  next  moment  the  blood  came  back  to  her  cheeks, 
and  she  breathed  free  and  strong  again ;  for  she  heard 
Paris  say,  '  I  have  a  wife,  CEnone,  who  to  me  is  the 
loveliest  of  mortals,  and  I  care  not  for  your  offer ;  yet 


The  Golden  Apple.  107 

I  give  to  you  the  apple,  for  I  know  that  you  are  the 
fairest  among  the  deathless  ones  who  live  on  high 
Olympus.' 

"  On  the  very  next  day  it  happened  that  King  Priam 
sat  thoughtfully  in  his  palace,  and  all  his  boys  and 
girls  —  nearly  fifty  in  number  —  were  about  him.  His 
mind  turned  sadly  to  the  little  babe  whom  he  had  sent 
away,  many  years  ago,  to  die  alone  on  wooded  Ida. 
And  he  said  to  himself,  '  The  child  has  been  long  dead, 
and  yet  no  feast  has  been  given  to  the  gods  that  they 
may  make  his  little  spirit  glad  in  the  shadowy  land  of 
Hades.  This  must  not  be  neglected  longer.  Within 
three  days  a  feast  must  be  made,  and  we  will  hold 
games  in  his  honor.' 

"  Then  he  called  his  servants,  and  bade  them  go  to 
the  pastures  on  Mount  Ida,  and  choose  from  the  herds 
that  were  there  the  fattest  and  handsomest  bull, 
to  be  given  as  a  prize  to  the  winner  in  the  games. 
And  he  proclaimed  through  all  Ilios,  that  on  the  third 
day  there  would  be  a  great  feast  in  Troy,  and  games « 
would  be  held  in  honor  of  the  little  babe  who  had  died 
twenty  years  before.  Now,  when  the  servants  came 
to  Mount  Ida,  they  chose  a  bull  for  which  Paris  had 
long  cared,  and  which  he  loved  more  than  any  other. 
And  he  would  not  let  the  beast  be  driven  from  the 
pasture  until  it  was  agreed  that  he  might  go  to  the  city 
with  it  and  contend  in  the  games  for  the  prize.  But 
CEnone,  the  river  nymph,  wept  and  prayed  him  not 
toga 


108  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

"  '  Leave  not  the  pleasant  pasture  lands  of  Ida,  even 
for  a  day,'  said  she ;  "  for  my  heart  tells  me  that  you 
will  not  return.' 

" '  Think  not  so,  my  fair  one,'  said  Paris.  '  Did  not 
Aphrodite  promise  that  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
the  world  shall  be  my  wife  ?  And  who  is  more  beauti- 
ful than  my  own  CEnone  ?  Dry  now  your  tears ;  for 
when  I  have  won  the  prizes  in  the  games  I  will  come 
back  to  you,  and  never  leave  you  again.' 

"  Then  the  grief  of  CEnone  waxed  still  greater.  '  If 
you  will  go,'  she  cried,  '  then  hear  my  warning ! 
Long  years  shall  pass  ere  you  shall  come  again  to 
wooded  Ida,  and  the  hearts  which  now  are  young  shall 
grow  old  and  feeble  by  reason  of  much  sorrow.  Cruel 
war  and  many  dire  disasters  shall  overtake  you,  and 
death  shall  be  nigh  unto  you ;  and  then  CEnone, 
although  long  forgotten  by  you,  will  hasten  to  your 
side,  to  help  and  to  heal  and  to  forgive,  that  so  the  old 
love  may  live  again.     Farewell ! ' 

"  But  Paris  kissed  his  wife,  and  hastened,  light  of 
heart,  to  Troy.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  but  that, 
in  the  games  which  followed,  the  handsome  young  shep- 
herd should  carry  off  all  the  prizes  ? 

" '  Who  are  you  ? '  asked  the  king. 

" '  My  name  is  Paris,'  answered  the  shepherd,  '  and 
I  feed  the  flocks  and  herds  on  wooded  Ida.' 

"  Then  Hector,  full  of  wrath  because  of  his  own  fail- 
ure to  win  a  prize,  came  forward  to  dispute  with  Paris. 

"'Stand  there,   Hector,'   cried  old  Priam;  'stand 


The  Golden  Apple.  109 

close  to  the  young  shepherd,  and  let  us  look  at  you ! ' 
Then  turning  to  the  queen,  he  asked,  'Did  you  ever 
see  two  so  nearly  alike  ?  The  shepherd  is  fairer  and 
of  slighter  build,  it  is  true ;  but  they  have  the  same 
eye,  the  same  frown,  the  same  smile,  the  same  motion 
of  the  shoulders,  the  same  walk.  Ah,  what  if  the 
young  babe  did  not  die  after  all  ? ' 

"  Then  Priam's  daughter  Cassandra,  who  has  the  gift 
of  prophecy,  cried  out,  '  Oh,  blind  of  eye  and  heart, 
that  you  cannot  see  in  this  young  shepherd  the  child 
whom  you  sent  to  sleep  the  sleep  of  death  on  Ida's 
wooded  slopes ! ' 

"  And  so  it  came  about,  that  Paris  was  taken  into  his 
father's  house,  and  given  the  place  of  honor  which  was 
his  by  right.  And  he  forgot  GEnone  his  fair  young 
wife,  and  left  her  to  pine  in  loneliness  among  the 
woods  and  in  the  narrow  dells  of  sunny  Ida."  ' 

By  this  time  the  fire  had  burned  low  upon  the 
hearth,  and  Cheiron  the  master  would  fain  have  ended 
his  talk.     But  Odysseus  was  anxious  to  hear  more. 

"To-morrow,"  said  he,  "we  must  go  back  to  Iolcos, 
for  perchance  the  ships  of  Peleus  may  then  be  ready  to 
saiL  So  tell  us,  I  pray  you,  yet  more  about  that 
strange  wedding  feast  in  the  cavern  halls  of  Pelion." 

"There  is  little  more  to  tell,"  said  the  master. 
"After  the  feast,  King  Peleus  went  down  with  his 
bride  into  Phthia ;  and  there  his  Myrmidons,  who  had 

1  See  Note  8  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


no  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

waited  so  long  for  his  coming,  rallied  around  him, 
ready  to  help  him  in  any  undertaking.  And  they 
marched  upon  Iolcos,  and  entered  the  gates,  carrying 
all  before  them;  and  they  slew  King  Acastus,  and  set 
Peleus  on  his  throne.  Thus  ended  this  hero's  days  of 
exile ;  and  now  for  seven  years  he  has  ruled  Iolcos  and 
Phthia  both  wisely  and  well ;  yet,  though  you  have 
found  him  at  this  season  of  the  year  in  Iolcos,  he 
loves  best  his  old  home  of  Phthia,  where  dwell  his 
Myrmidons." 

"  Please  tell  me  about  his  son,  fair  young  Achilles, 
who  is  here  in  your  hall,"  said  Odysseus. 

Cheiron  answered  briefly  by  telling  him  how  the 
young  lad's  mother,  the  sea  nymph  Thetis,  had  longed 
to  make  her  son  immortal ;  and  how  it  was  said  that 
she  each  night  threw  him  into  the  fire  to  purge  away 
whatever  mortal  stains  might  cling  to  him  ;  and  how 
each  day  she  anointed  him  with  ambrosia,  and  sang 
him  to  sleep  with  sweet  lullabies  of  the  sea. 

"But  one  night,"  added  Cheiron,  "King  Peleus  hap- 
pened to  see  the  babe  lying  in  the  fire  ;  and  in  his 
fright  he  cried  out,  and  snatched  him  from  the  coals. 
Then  Thetis  sorrowfully  gave  up  her  plan  ;  and  the 
boy  was  sent  to  me,  that  I  might  train  him  in  all  that 
goes  to  the  making  of  a  man.  There  are  those  who 
say  that  I  feed  the  lad  on  the  hearts  of  lions,  and  the 
marrow  of  bears  and  wild  boars ;  and  those  may  be- 
lieve the  story  who  wish  to  do  so.  But  I  have  lived 
long  enough  to  know  that  there  are  other  and  better 


The  Golden  Apple.  1 1 1 

ways  of  training  up  heroes  and  fitting  them  for  the 
strife  of  battle." 

And  thus  the  long  talk  with  Cheiron,  the  wise  mas- 
ter, ended  ;  and  Odysseus  retired  to  his  couch,  and  was 
soon  dreaming  of  far-away  Ithaca  and  of  his  anxious 
mother,  who  was  even  then  hoping  for  his  return. 

The  next  morning  the  lad  and  his  tutor  went  down 
the  mountain  ;  and,  following  the  pathway  which  Jason 
had  taken  when  he  went  to  claim  his  birthright  of 
Pelias,  they  came,  in  good  time,  back  to  Iolcos  by  the 
sea.  There  they  found  that  a  ship  was  just  making 
ready  to  sail  for  Corinth  ;  and  bidding  a  hasty  farewell  to 
King  Peleus,  and  to  bold  Echion,  who  still  tarried  there, 
they  embarked,  and  were  soon  well  on  their  way.  The 
voyage  was  a  long  and  hard  one ;  but  kind  Athene 
favored  them,  and  Poseidon  gave  them  smooth  waters 
and  many  pleasant  days  upon  the  sea.  Nor  were  they 
delayed  at  Corinth ;  for  they  found  waiting  there  a 
ship,  which  Laertes  had  sent  out  on  purpose  to  meet 
them  and  bring  them  home.  And  so,  before  the 
autumn  had  closed,  Odysseus,  much  wiser  and  stronger 
than  he  was  when  he  departed,  gazed  with  glad  eyes 
once  more  upon  the  shores  of  sea-girt  Ithaca. 


ADVENTURE  IX. 


THE   SWINEHERD. 

When  Odysseus  stepped  ashore  upon  the  sandy 
beach  of  Ithaca,  the  good  people  of  the  town,  both 
young  and  old,  had  gathered  there  to  welcome  him  ; 
and  they  sang  a  song  of  greeting  like  that  with  which 
the)  were  wont  to  meet  their  returning  heroes.  He 
staid  only  a  moment  to  speak  with  them.  With  winged 
feet  he  hastened  to  the  hall  where  his  queenly  mother 
waited  for  his  coming.  She  threw  her  arms  about  him, 
and  in  the  fulness  of  her  joy  wept  aloud  ;  and  she  kissed 
his  head  and  his  eyes  and  both  his  hands,  and  wel- 
comed him  as  one  saved  from  death. 

"  Thou  hast  come  at  last,  Odysseus,"  she  said. 
"  The  light  is  not  more  sweet  to  me.  I  feared  that  I 
should  never  see  thee  more,  when  I  heard  that  thou 
hadst  gone  from  Parnassus  to  distant  Pelion.  Come 
now,  and  sit  before  me  as  of  yore,  and  let  me  look  into 
those  eyes  which  have  been  so  long  time  away." 

And  Laertes,  too,  folded  the  boy  in  his  arms,  and 
kissed  him,  and  plied  him  with  a  thousand  questions 
which  he  could  not  answer.     Then,  in  the  halls  of  the 


The  Swineherd.  113 


king,  a  feast  was  made  ready,  and  the  day  was  given 
over  to  music  and  merry-making ;  and  all  the  people 
joined  in  offering  thanks  to  Pallas  Athene^  who  had 
brought  the  wanderer  safe  home  to  his  friends  and  his 
kindred. 

When  the  evening  had  come,  and  the  guests  had 
gone  to  their  own  homes,  Odysseus  sat  upon  a  low 
stool  at  his  mother's  feet,  while  she  asked  him  many 
questions  about  her  aged  sire  Autolycus,  and  about  the 
dear  home  of  her  girlhood  on  the  farther  side  of  Mount 
Parnassus.  And  he  told  her  of  all  that  she  asked  him, 
and  of  the  wonderful  things  that  he  had  seen  and  heard 
in  far-away  lands  and  seas. 

"  But  were  you  not  afraid  that  evil  would  befall  you, 
and  that  your  eyes  would  never  more  behold  fair  Ithaca  ? " 
asked  his  mother,  tenderly  stroking  his  yellow  hair. 

"Nightly  I  prayed  to  Pallas  Athene,"  answered  the 
lad,  "and  she  watched  kindly  over  me  every  hour. 
Who  would  be  afraid  when  shielded  and  led  by  ^0 
great  a  friend  ?  Then,  too,  good  Phemius  questioned 
the  Pythian  oracle  about  me  ;  and  the  answer  was  such 
as  to  make  me  sure  of  safety.     It  was  this  :  — 

*To  home  and  kindred  he  shall  safe  return  ere  long, 
With  scars  well-won,  and  greeted  with  triumphal  song.' " 

"Well,"  said  Laertes,  "the  oracle  doubtless  spoke 
the  truth.  We  know  that  you  have  returned  to  your 
home,  and  that  you  have  been  greeted  with  songs,  but 
I  fear  you  have  yet  to  gain  the  scars." 


ii4  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

"  Not  so,  father,"  answered  Odysseus.  And  then  he 
showed  them  the  great  white  scar  which  the  tusk  of  the 
wild  boar  had  made  upon  his  knee  ;  and  he  told  them 
of  the  famous  hunt  in  the  woods  of  Parnassus,  and  of 
the  days  of  pain  and  enforced  quiet  which  he  had 
afterward  spent  on  an  invalid's  couch.  And  all  those 
who  listened  to  his  story  were  struck  with  the  wisdom 
of  his  thoughts  ;  and  they  wondered  at  the  choice 
beauty  of  the  words  which  fell  from  his  lips,  soft  and 
persuasive  like  the  flakes  of  snow  on  a  quiet  day  in 
winter. 

After  this,  many  pleasant  days  came  and  passed. 
The  simple-hearted  folk  of  Ithaca  went  about  their 
tasks  as  of  yore,  —  some  tending  their  flocks  in  the 
mountain  pastures,  some  gathering  the  autumn  fruits 
from  the  overladen  trees,  and  some  twirling  the  spindle 
or  plying  the  loom  in  their  humble  homes.  King 
Laertes  himself  worked  early  and  late  in  his  vineyards 
or  in  his  well-tilled  orchard  grounds  ;  and  Odysseus  was 
often  with  him,  as  busy  as  he,  tending  his  own  trees 
and  vines.  For,  long  time  before,  when  he  was  but  a 
little  child,  the  boy  had  walked  through  these  grounds 
with  his  father,  and  had  asked  the  names  of  the  trees. 
And  Laertes  had  not  only  answered  the  prattler,  but 
had  given  him  a  whole  small  orchard  for  his  own :  of 
pear  trees,  thirteen  ;  of  apple  trees,  ten  ;  of  fig  trees, 
forty  ;  and  he  promised  to  give  him  fifty  rows  of  vines, 
each  of  which  ripened  at  a  different  time,  with  all  man- 
ner of  clusters  on  their  boughs. 


The  Swineherd.  115 


Sometimes  Odysseus  went  out  with  other  boys  of  his 
age,  to  ramble  among  the  hills  and  on  the  wooded 
mountain  slopes.  Sometimes  they  played  at  ball  in  the 
open  field,  or  loitered  around  the  flowing  spring  whence 
the  people  of  the  town  drew  water.  This  well  had  been 
digged  and  walled  by  Ithacus  and  Neritus,  the  first 
settlers  of  the  island ;  and  close  by  it  was  a  thicket 
of  reeds  and  alders,  growing  green  and  rank  from  the 
boggy  soil ;  while,  on  the  rock  from  beneath  which  the 
ice-cold  water  gushed,  an  altar  had  been  built,  where 
all  wayfarers  laid  some  offering  for  the  nymphs.  This 
was  a  lovely  spot ;  and  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  the  boys 
would  often  sit  in  the  cool  shade  of  the  trees,  and  play 
a  quiet  game  with  pebbles,  or  talk  about  the  noble 
deeds  of  the  heroes. 

Once  they  wandered  far  over  the  hills  to  the  sheltered 
woodland  where  the  swine  of  Laertes  were  kept.  There, 
near  the  rock  called  Corax,  was  the  spring  of  Arethusa, 
around  which  grew  many  great  oak  trees,  yielding 
abundance  of  acorns.  There  the  slave  Eumasus  lived  in 
a  humble  lodge  of  his  own  building,  and  fed  and  tended 
his  master's  swine,  far  from  the  homes  of  other  men. 

When  the  swineherd  saw  Odysseus,  and  knew  that 
he  was  the  master's  son,  he  ran  to  welcome  him  and  his 
comrades  to  his  lowly  home.  He  led  them  to  the  lodge, 
and  took  them  in,  and  strewed  fragrant  leaves  upon 
the  floor,  and  stirred  the  blazing  fire  upon  the  hearth. 
Then  he  hastened  to  the  sties  where  the  fattest  young 
pigs  were  Denned.     Two  of  these  he  killed  and  dressed  ; 


n6  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

and  when  he  had  cut  them  in  pieces,  he  roasted  the 
choicest  parts  on  spits  before  the  fire.  Then  he  set 
the  smoking  food  upon  a  table  before  Odysseus  and  his 
comrades,  and  sprinkled  it  all  over  with  white  barley- 
meal.  After  this,  he  mixed  honey-sweet  wine  with 
water  in  a  wooden  bowl,  and  sat  down  to  the  feast  with 
them.  Right  heartily  did  they  eat  and  drink,  and  many 
were  the  pleasant  jests  that  were  passed  among  them. 
When  they  had  finished,  Odysseus  said,  — 

"Swineherd  Eumaeus,  you  have  fed  us  right  nobly, 
and  there  is  nothing  more  welcome  to  tired  and  hungry 
boys  than  plenty  of  well-seasoned  food.  Surely  one 
who  can  serve  so  royally  as  you  have  done  was  not 
born  a  slave  ? " 

"  Nor  indeed  was  I,"  answered  Eumaeus.  "  In  my 
childhood  I  was  a  prince,  noble  as  yourself.  But  the 
Fates  bring  strange  fortunes  to  some  men,  and  strangely 
have  I  been  tossed  about  in  the  world." 

"  Do  tell  us,"  said  Odysseus,  "  how  this  great  change 
was  made  in  your  life.  Was  the  goodly  town  in  which 
your  father  and  your  lady  mother  dwelt,  laid  waste  by 
an  enemy  ?  Or  did  unfriendly  men  find  you  in  the 
fields  alone,  and  sell  you  to  him  who  would  pay  the 
goodliest  price  ? " 

"  Since  you  ask  me  for  my  story,  young  master,"  said 
Eumaeus,  "  I  will  tell  it  you.  But  sit  you  here  upon 
this  couch  of  goat  skins  while  you  listen,  for  I  know 
that  your  long  walk  has  wearied  you. 

"  Far  out  in  the  sea  there  is  an  island  called  Syria, 


The  Swineherd.  117 


above  which  the  sun  turns  in  its  course.  It  is  not  very 
thickly  peopled,  but  it  is  rich  in  vineyards  and  wheat- 
fields,  and  in  pastures  where  thousands  of  cattle  graze. 
There  no  one  ever  goes  hungry  for  lack  of  food,  and 
sickness  never  comes  ;  but  when  men  grow  old,  then 
silver-bowed  Apollo,  and  Artemis  his  huntress  sister, 
strike  them  with  their  noiseless  arrows,  and  they  cease 
to  live.  In  that  island  stand  two  cities,  fair  and  rich ; 
and  over  them  both  my  father  is  sole  lord  and  king. 
There,  in  his  white  halls  where  care  never  enters, 
my  infancy  was  passed ;  and  never  did  I  dream  oi 
the  hard  lot  which  the  pitiless  Fates  had  decreed 
for  me. 

"  One  day  there  came  to  our  island  some  Phoenician 
merchants,  shrewd  seafaring  men,  intent  on  trade  and 
profit.  In  their  ship  they  brought  countless  trinkets 
to  barter  with  our  folk  for  corn  and  wine  ;  and  they 
moored  their  vessel  in  the  harbor  close  to  the  shore. 
In  my  father's  house  there  dwelt  a  Phoenician  slave- 
woman,  tall  and  fair,  and  skilled  in  needlework.  And 
when  the  merchants  knew  that  she  spoke  their  lan- 
guage, they  asked  her  who  she  was  and  from  whence 
she  came. 

" '  In  Sidon  I  was  born,'  she  answered,  '  and  Arybas 
my  father  was  one  of  the  wealthiest  of  Sidonian  mer- 
chants. Once  as  I  was  walking  on  the  shore,  a  band  of 
Taphian  sea-robbers  seized  me  unawares,  and  carried 
me  in  their  dark-hulled  ship  across  the  sea.  They 
brought  me  to  this  far-distant  island,  and  sold  me,  for 


1 1 8  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

much  gold,  to  the  man  who   lives   in   yonder  palace.' 
And  she  pointed  to  my  father's  lofty  dwelling. 

"  Then  the  merchants  asked  her  if  she  would  return 
with  them  to  Sidon,  where  she  might  again  behold  her 
father  and  mother,  and  the  sweet  home  of  her  girlhood. 
And  she  consented,  only  asking  that  they  pledge  them 
selves  to  take  her  safely  home. 

"'Now  say  no  more,' she  said;  'and  should  any  of 
you  meet  me  on  the  road  or  by  the  well,  hold  your 
tongues,  and  let  no  word  be  spoken  between  us.  But 
when  you  have  sold  your  goods,  and  have  filled  your 
ship  with  corn  and  wine,  send  some  one  to  the  house 
who  shall  tell  me  secretly.  Then  I  will  hie  me  to  your 
swift-sailing  vessel,  bringing  gold  wherewith  to  pay  my 
fare,  and,  if  fortune  favor,  even  more  than  gold.  For  I 
am  nurse  to  the  little  son  of  my  master,  a  cunning  prat- 
tler whom  I  often  take  with  me  in  my  walks.  I  will 
bring  him  on  board  your  ship,  and  when  you  have 
reached  some  rich  foreign  land  you  can  sell  him  for  a 
goodly  price.' 

"  And  thus  having  settled  upon  a  plan,  the  Phoeni- 
cian woman  went  back  to  my  father's  halls  ;  and  the 
merchants  staid  a  whole  year  in  our  harbor,  and  filled 
their  ship  with  grain.  But  when  at  last  they  were 
ready  to  sail,  they  sent  a  messenger  to  tell  the  woman. 
He  came  to  our  house  with  many  trinkets,  bracelets, 
and  golden  necklaces,  which  pleased  the  eyes  of  my  lady 
mother  and  her  maidens.  And  while  they  were  looking, 
and  asking  the  price,  he  signed  to  my  Phoenician  nurse, 


The  Swineherd.  119 


and  straightway  gathered  up  his  goods,  and  hastened 
back  to  his  fellows.  When  the  sun  went  down,  the 
woman  took  my  hand,  and  led  me  from  the  house  as 
she  had  often  done  before.  Thoughtlessly  I  followed 
her  to  the  shore  where  the  fast-sailing  ship  was  moored. 
The  Phoenicians  took  us  both  on  board ;  they  hoisted 
the  broad  sail,  and  a  brisk  wind  quickly  carried  us  far 
away  from  my  home  and  friends.  On  the  seventh  day, 
Artemis  the  archer  queen  smote  the  woman  with  her 
silent  arrows,  and  her  eyes  saw  no  more  the  sweet  light 
of  heaven.  Then  the  crew  cast  her  forth  into  the  sea, 
to  be  food  for  fishes  and  the  sea  calves ;  and  I  was  left 
alone  and  stricken  with  grief  and  fear.  But  the  swift 
ship  brought  us  ere  long  to  Ithaca,  and  there  those 
who  had  stolen  me  bartered  me  to  Laertes  for  a 
goodly  price.  And  that  is  why  I  am  your  father's 
thrall,  and  dwell  here  lonely  underneath  these  shel- 
tering oaks."  : 

Such  was  the  tale  which  the  swineherd  told  Odysseus 
and  his  young  companions  as  they  sat  together  in  the 
lodge. 

"I  pity  thee,  Eumseus,"  said  the  lad.  "Thy  story  is 
indeed  a  sad  one ;  and,  could  I  do  so,  I  would  gladly 
send  thee  back  to  far-off  Syria  where  thy  mother  sor- 
rows even  yet  for  thee." 

"  Alas ! "  answered  the  swineherd.  "  There  is  no 
hope.  No  ship  will  ever  sail  through  the  unknown  sea- 
ways which  lead  to  my  boyhood's  home.     My  life  must 

1  See  Note  q  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


1 20  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

be  spent  in  this  spot ;  yet  I  am  happy  in  knowing  that 
my  master  is  the  kindest  of  men,  and  that  I  shall  be  well 
provided  for.  Even  a  slave  may  find  enjoyment  if  his 
heart  be  right ;  for  it  is  the  mind,  and  not  the  force  of 
outward  things,  that  makes  us  rich  and  free." 


ADVENTURE  X. 


THE  SEA  ROBBERS   OF  MESSENE. 

Five  years  passed  quietly  by,  and  brought  few 
changes  to  Ithaca.  The  flocks  still  grazed  in  their 
mountain  pastures ;  the  orchard  trees  still  bent  under 
their  loads  of  ripening  fruit ;  the  vines  still  yielded  their 
treasures  of  purple  and  red.  The  simple-hearted  island- 
ers arose  each  day  with  the  coming  of  the  dawn  ;  they 
went  about  their  tasks  with  cheerfulness ;  they  sang, 
and  danced,  and  ate  their  accustomed  meals,  and  then 
with  the  coming  of  night  they  lay  down  to  sleep :  to 
them,  all  days  were  alike,  and  life  was  but  one  pleasant 
round  of  duties.  But  King  Laertes,  as  he  grew  older, 
sought  more  and  more  the  quiet  of  his  farm  and  garden  ; 
and,  for  the  most  part,  he  allowed  his  little  kingdom 
to  take  care  of  itself,  and  his  subjects  to  do  as  they 
pleased. 

And  in  these  five  years  young  Odysseus  had  become 
a  man.  He  had  grown  not  so  much  in  stature  as  in 
wisdom,  nor  yet  so  much  in  size  of  limb  and  body  as 
in  strength  of  bone  and  muscle.  There  was  nothing  in 
his  face  or  figure  that  could  be  called  handsome,  and 


122  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

yet  he  was  the  pride  of  Ithaca.  For,  in  all  the  deeds 
and  feats  most  worthy  of  men,  he  was  without  a  peer. 
In  wrestling  and  leaping,  in  rowing  and  swimming,  in 
shooting  with  the  bow,  and  in  handling  the  heavy  spear, 
there  was  no  one  that  could  equal  him.  He  was  a  very 
master  of  words  ;  and  when  his  speech  warmed  into 
earnestness,  the  dullest  hearer  was  spell-bound  by  his 
eloquence.  Even  to  the  Achaian  mainland  and  among 
the  islands  of  the  sea,  he  was  famed  for  his  far-reach- 
ing shrewdness.  Indeed,  his  craftiness  oftentimes  out 
weighed  his  sense  of  honor ;  for,  in  that  early  day,  to 
outwit  one's  fellows  even  by  fraud  was  thought  to  be 
praiseworthy. 

One  evening  in  summer,  four  strange  ships,  with  long 
black  hulls,  sailed  into  the  harbor  at  Ithaca,  and  were 
moored  in  the  deep  water  close  to  the  shore.  They 
were  found  to  be  manned  by  crews  of  seafarers  from 
the  low-lying  shores  of  Messene ;  and  their  captain 
brought  greetings  from  Orsilochus  their  king,  and 
offered  to  barter  silver  and  merchandise  for  Ithacan 
wool  and  long-horned  sheep.  Laertes  welcomed  the 
strangers  warmly ;  and  as  the  night  was  near,  he  advised 
that  early  on  the  morrow  they  should  bring  their  wares 
ashore,  and  allow  his  people  to  bargain  for  what  they 
needed  most.  And  soon  darkness  covered  all  the  ways, 
and  Ithaca  was  wrapped  in  slumber. 

When  the  gray  dawn  peeped  into  his  chamber,  and 
awakened  him,  the  king  arose,  and  looked  out  towards 
*ihe  harbor.     Not  one  of  the  black-hulled  ships  could 


The  Sea  Robbers  of  Messene.  123 

he  see.  They  had  silently  cast  their  moorings,  and  had 
stolen  away  through  the  darkness.  While  the  king 
looked  and  wondered,  an  old  shepherd  with  frightened 
face  and  gestures  of  alarm  came  running  in  breathless 
haste  to  the  palace.  In  a  few  words  he  told  what 
strange  things  had  happened.  By  the  light  of  the 
waning  moon,  the  sea  rovers  from  Messene  had  sailed 
around  to  a  little  cove  where  the  pastures  slope  down 
to  the  water's  edge.  There  they  had  landed,  and  with- 
out much  ado  had  driven  a  whole  flock  of  sheep  aboard 
their  ships,  —  three  hundred  long-wooled  ewes  and 
bleating  lambs,  the  choicest  of  the  fields.  And  they 
had  carried  away  not  only  these,  but  the  six  sleepy 
shepherds  whose  duty  it  had  been  to  guard  them. 

An  alarm  was  quickly  sounded,  and  the  news  was 
passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  until  it  was  known  to  all. 
The  bravest  men  of  Ithaca  hastened  to  the  shore,  where 
stood  Odysseus  and  his  father,  ready  to  direct  them. 
Their  fleetest  vessels,  lying  high  upon  the  beach,  were 
cleared  ready  to  be  launched.  Five  ships  with  vermil- 
ion prows  were  pushed  into  the  waves ;  and  each  was 
manned  by  a  score  of  lusty  rowers,  and  headed  towards 
the  open  sea.  The  long  oars  dipped  into  the  water,  as 
if  all  were  moved  by  a  single  hand ;  and  the  vessels 
sped  out  upon  their  errand,  like  dogs  of  the  chase  intent 
upon  a  fleeing  victim. 

The  sky  was  clear.  The  waves  danced  merrily  in 
the  sunlight.  The  wind  blew  gently  from  the  shore. 
The  crews  of  the  Ithacan  ships  bent  to  the  oars  like 


1 24  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

practised  seamen ;  but  when  they  rounded  the  head- 
lands at  the  foot  of  the  bay,  and  came  out  upon  the 
open  sea,  they  saw  no  trace  of  the  pirate  fleet,  nor 
even  a  single  sail  upon  the  laughing  face  of  the  deep. 
Whether  the  men  of  Messene  had  pushed  straight 
homeward  with  their  plunder,  or  whether  they  had  put 
into  some  other  cove  or  inlet  farther  down  the  coast, 
no  one  could  guess.  All  that  their  pursuers  could  do 
was  to  sail  close  along  the  shore,  southward  towards 
Cephallenia,  peering  behind  every  jutting  headland, 
and  into  every  sheltered  nook,  in  hopes  of  coming  upon 
them. 

Five  days  afterward,  the  red-prowed  ships  returned 
to  Ithaca.  Nothing  had  been  seen  of  the  sea  robbers  : 
nothing  had  been  heard  of  the  stolen  flocks. 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  robbers  were  known  to 
be  men  of  Messene,  the  subjects  of  Orsilochus.  It 
was  no  secret,  that  much  of  the  wealth  of  Messene  had 
been  gotten  by  the  plunder  and  pillage  of  foreign 
coasts ;  but  were  the  pirates  of  that  country  to  be 
allowed  thus  to  rob  their  near  neighbors  and  kinsfolk  ? 
Laertes  called  together  a  council  of  the  chiefs  and 
elders,  and  asked  them  what  it  was  best  to  do. 

"We  are  a  peaceful,  home-loving  people,"  said  some 
of  the  older  men,  "and  it  would  neither  be  wise  nor 
pleasant  to  entangle  ourselves  in  a  war  with  a  strong 
king  like  Orsilochus.  The  loss  of  three  hundred  sheep 
is  not  much  where  there  are  so  many,  and  it  is  not 
likely  that  the  sea  robbers  will  ever  trouble  us  again. 


The  Sea  Robbers  of  Messene.  125 


Let  us  go  quietly  back  to  our  fields  and  homes,  and 
leave  well  enough  alone." 

But  the  young  men  would  not  listen  to  a  plan  so 
tame  and  spiritless.  They  were  eager,  if  they  could 
not  recover  what  was  their  own,  to  take  at  least  what 
was  of  equal  value  from  the  Messenians.  It  would  be 
easy,  they  said,  for  a  few  stanch  ships  with  well-chosen 
crews  to  cross  the  sea-ways,  and  land  by  night  upon  the 
rich  coast  of  Messene ;  there  they  could  fill  the  roomy 
holds  of  their  vessels  with  fruit  and  grain  ;  and  before 
any  one  could  hinder,  they  would  sail  safely  back  to 
Ithaca  laden  with  wealth  far  greater  than  three  hundred 
sheep. 

Then  Odysseus,  though  a  mere  youth  among  bearded 
men,  stood  up  before  them,  and  said, — 

"My  good  friends,  I  like  neither  the  one  plan  nor 
the  other.  It  is  but  the  part  of  a  slave  to  suffer  wrong 
without  striking  back.  It  is  but  the  part  of  a  coward 
to  strike  in  the  dark,  as  if  fearing  the  enemy's  face. 
Why  not  send  boldly  to  Messene,  and  demand  either 
the  stolen  sheep,  or  a  fair  price  for  them  ?  I  myself 
will  undertake  the  business,  and  I  promise  you  that 
I  will  bring  back  to  Ithaca  gifts  and  goods  worth  twice 
as  much  as  the  flock  that  has  been  taken." 

The  elders  listened  with  favor  to  the  young  man's 
words ;  and,  after  further  talk,  it  was  settled  that  he 
should  go  forthwith  across  the  sea  to  claim  the  debt 
which  was  due  from  the  people  of  Messene. 

The  goodliest   ship   of  all  the  Ithacan  galleys  was 


126  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

made  ready  for  Odysseus.  The  needed  stores  of  food 
and  drink  were  brought  on  board,  and  placed  in  the 
vessel's  hold.  The  young  hero,  with  his  friend  and 
tutor  Phemius,  climbed  over  the  vessel's  side,  and  sat 
down  in  the  prow.  The  long-haired  seamen  cast  loose 
the  moorings  ;  they  plied  their  oars,  and  the  swift  ship 
was  soon  far  out  upon  the  waters.  A  steady  north 
wind  filled  the  sail,  and  the  vessel  sped  swiftly  on  her 
way,  cleaving  the  white  foam  with  her  keel.  By  and 
by  the  sun  went  down,  and  night  wrapped  the  world 
in  her  sober  mantle ;  but  the  ship  still  held  its  course, 
being  guided  by  the  moon's  pale  light,  and  the  steadfast 
star  of  the  north. 

The  next  day  they  sailed  within  sight  of  the  low- 
lying  coast  of  Elis,  which  stretched  northward  and 
southward  farther  than  their  eyes  could  reach.  Yet 
they  turned  not  to  the  shore,  but  sailed  straight  on ; 
for  Odysseus,  advised  by  Pallas  Athene,  wished  first 
to  visit  Pylos,  where  wise  old  Nestor  ruled  with  his 
father,  the  ancient  Neleus.  This  Neleus  was  the  uncle 
of  Jason,  chief  of  the  Argonauts,  and  had  been  driven 
from  Iolcos  by  Pelias  the  usurper.  Long  time  had  he 
wandered,  an  exile  in  strange  lands,  until  Aphareus  of 
Arene  gave  him  leave  to  build  a  city  on  the  sandy 
plain  close  by  the  sea.  There  he  had  reared  a  noble 
palace ;  and  there  he  still  dwelt,  having  outlived  three 
generations  of  men.  But  he  had  given  up  his  king- 
dom, many  years  before,  to  his  son  Nestor,  himself  a 
sage  old  man. 


The  Sea  Robbers  of  Messene.  127 

It  was  not  until  late  on  the  third  day  that  the  voya- 
gers turned  their  ship's  prow  into  the  harbor  of  Pylos. 
It  touched  the  shore,  and  Odysseus  with  his  tutor 
sprang  out  upon  the  sands.  They  found  the  people 
of  the  city  offering  sacrifices  there  to  Poseidon,  ruler  of 
the  deep.  Upon  nine  long  seats  they  were  sitting,  five 
hundred  or  more  on  each  seat ;  and  the  priest  stood  up 
before  them,  pouring  out  libations  and  offering  sacri- 
fices.    Nine  coal-black  heifers  he  offered  to  Poseidon. 

King  Nestor  sat  upon  a  lofty  seat  while  the  elders  of 
the  city  stood  around  him,  or  plied  their  several  duties 
at  the  feast.  Some  of  them  were  busy  cutting  choice 
bits  of  flesh  from  the  slaughtered  beeves  ;  others  fixed 
these  bits  upon  spits,  and  roasted  them  over  heaps  of 
glowing  coals ;  and  still  others  handed  the  smoking 
food  to  the  waiting  people  who  sat  hungry  in  their 
places.  When  Nestor  saw  Odysseus  and  the  bard,  two 
strangers,  standing  upon  the  shore,  he  arose  and  went 
down  to  meet  them.  He  gave  to  each  a  hand,  and 
leading  them  to  the  feast  he  seated  them  upon  soft 
skins  spread  on  piles  of  yielding  sand.  Then  he 
brought  to  them,  in  his  own  hands,  choicest  pieces  of 
well-cooked  and  well-flavored  food ;  and  when  they  had 
eaten  as  much  as  they  liked,  he  poured  rich  wine  into 
a  golden  goblet,  and  as  he  offered  it  first  to  the  noble 
bard,  he  said,  "  Right  welcome  are  you,  stranger,  who- 
ever you  may  be,  to  this  our  midsummer  festival.  I 
give  this  golden  goblet  to  you  first,  you  being  the  older 
man,  that  you  may  pray  as  beseemeth  you  to   great 


128  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

Poseidon.  When  you  have  made  your  prayer,  hand 
then  the  cup  to  the  young  man  who  is  with  you,  that 
he  too  may  pour  out  a  libation ;  for  all  men  have  need 
to  pray." 

Then  the  bard  took  the  goblet,  and  pouring  out  a 
rich  libation,  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  prayed,  "Great 
Poseidon,  thou  who  dost  hold  the  earth  in  thy  strong 
arms,  hear  now  the  prayer  of  thy  suppliant.  Prolong 
still  the  life  of  our  aged  host,  and  add  to  Nestor  with 
each  circling  year  new  honors  and  greater  wealth.  To 
the  folk  of  Pylos  give  rich  contentment  and  that  peace 
which  is  the  befitting  prize  of  those  who  are  mindful 
of  life's  varied  duties.  And  lastly,  grant  that  this 
young  man  may  find  that  which  he  seeks,  and  then 
return  rejoicing  to  his  home  and  friends." 

When  he  had  thus  spoken,  he  gave  the  goblet  to 
Odysseus,  and  he  in  like  manner  poured  out  libations, 
and  prayed  to  great  Poseidon. 

Then  said  Nestor  as  he  took  again  the  goblet, 
"  Strangers,  you  do  wisely  thus  to  offer  prayers  to  the 
gods ;  for  they  are  far  above  us  in  virtue,  strength, 
and  honor.  When  men  have  failed  to  do  aright,  and 
have  broken  Heaven's  just  laws,  they  may  still,  by 
humble  vows  and  supplications,  turn  aside  from  evil- 
doing,  and  soften  the  wrath  of  the  ever-living  powers." 

"  Yes,  truly,"  answered  Phemius,  "  by  prayers  we  do 
honor  both  ourselves  and  those  to  whom  we  pray. 
There  is  an  ancient  saying,  which  no  doubt  you  oft  have 
heard,  that  prayers  are  the  feeble-sighted  daughters  of 


The  Sea  Robbers  of  Messene.  129 

Father  Zeus,  and  wrinkled  and  lame  they  follow  in  mis- 
fortune's track.  But  misfortune,  strong  and  swift,  out- 
runs them  often,  and  brings  distress  upon  the  sons  of 
men ;  then  these  blessed  prayers,  following  after,  kindly 
heal  the  hurts  and  bind  up  the  aching  wounds  which 
have  been  made.  And  for  this  reason  the  man  who  is 
wont  to  pray  feels  less  the  strokes  of  fortune  than  does 
he  who  lives  forgetful  of  the  gods."  * 

The  teast  being  soon  ended,  Nestor  turned  again  to 
the  strangers,  and  said,  "  Behold  now,  the  day  is  well- 
nigh  gone,  and  all  have  paid  their  vows  to  the  ever- 
living  gods.  The  time  has  come  when  we  may  ask  our 
stranger-guests  their  names  and  errand.  Who  are  you 
who  come  thus  unheralded  to  the  sandy  shores  of 
Pylos  ?  Is  your  visit  one  of  peace,  and  shall  we  wel- 
come you  as  friends  ?  Or  do  you  come  as  spies,  to 
find  out  what  there  may  be  of  wealth  or  of  weakness 
in  our  city  ? " 

Odysseus  answered  :  "  O  noble  Nestor,  we  will  speak 
the  truth,  and  hide  nothing  from  you.  I  am  Odysseus 
of  Ithaca ;  my  father  is  King  Laertes,  who  was  once 
your  comrade  when  you  sailed  on  the  Argo  to  golden 
Colchis.  Ten  days  ago,  there  came  to  our  island  sea- 
faring men  from  Messene,  whom  we  welcomed  as  friends 
and  neighbors.  But  under  cover  of  the  night  they 
landed  on  our  shores  ;  they  seized  three  hundred  of 
our  long-wooled  sheep,  together  with  the  shepherds, 
and  bore  them  across  the  sea  to  some  one  of  the  pirate 

1  See  Note  10  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


130  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

harbors  of  Messene.  I  now  am  on  my  way  to  King 
Orsilochus,  to  bid  him  send  back  the  stolen  flock ;  and 
if  he  will  not  hearken  to  my  words,  then  I  shall  either 
gain  by  guile  or  take  by  force  double  the  value  of  the 
sheep.  But  I  have  come  first  to  Pylos,  that  you,  my 
father's  old-time  friend,  might  know  my  errand,  ?nd, 
if  need  be,  lend  me  your  aid." 

"You  have  spoken  well,"  answered  Nestor;  ";?nd  for 
your  father's  sake  you  are  thrice  welcome  to  the  lofty 
halls  of  Pylos.  Abide  with  me  for  one  night,  and  in 
the  morning  I  will  give  you  a  car  and  steeds,  and  a 
trustworthy  guide,  to  take  you  by  the  straightest  road 
to  Pherae,  where  the  king  of  Messene  dwells.  Orsilo- 
chus must  learn  from  me,  that,  though  hig  pirate-crews 
may  plunder  foreign  shores,  they  must  not  molest  the 
flocks  and  goods  of  our  home-staying  neighbors." 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  led  the  way  to  the  fair  palace, 
which  his  father  Neleus  erstwhile  had  built.  There 
they  found  that  aged  chieftain  sitting  in  the  great  hall, 
upon  a  soft  couch  spread  with  purple  coverings.  His 
hair  and  his  long  beard  were  white  as  the  driven  snow, 
and  his  hands  trembled  from  very  feebleness,  for  he 
was  exceeding  old.  He  spoke  kindly  to  Odysseus,  and 
asked  many  questions  about  his  father  Laertes,  and  his 
home  in  Ithaca ;  but  he  seemed  most  pleased  when  the 
young  man  told  him  of  his  visit,  when  a  boy,  to  Iolcos 
and  Mount  Pelion.  For  Iolcos  had  been  the  home  of 
Neleus  in  his  youth  ;  and  he  it  was  who  had  helped 
Pelias  drive  ^Eson  from  the  kingdom  which  was  his  by 


The  Sea  Robbers  of  Messene.  131 

right.     But  Nemesis  had  followed  him,  and  punished 
him  for  the  deed. 

Soon  the  shades  of  night  began  to  darken  the  fair 
hall,  and  the  chiefs  and  elders  went  each  one  to  his 
own  house.  But  Nestor  led  Odysseus  and  the  bard  to 
an  upper  chamber,  where  a  fair,  soft  couch  was  spread 
upon  a  jointed  bedstead.  There  he  left  them  for  the 
night,  and  there  they  soon  found  rest  in  soothing 
slumber. 

As  soon  as  the  light  of  day  began  to  streak  the  east- 
ern sky,  the  aged  Neleus,  as  was  his  wont,  arose  from 
Vis  couch,  and,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Nestor,  went 
feebly  out,  and  took  his  seat  upon  a  smooth  white  stone 
before  the  palace  gate.  Then  every  one  who  had  aught 
of  grievance,  or  had  suffered  any  wrong,  came  and  told 
his  story,  and  made  his  plea ;  and  the  old  hero  weighed 
the  matter  with  an  even  hand,  and  gave  judgment  for 
the  right. 

"  What  shall  be  done  to  aid  the  son  of  Laertes,  that 
so  his  journey  into  Messene  shall  prosper?"  asked 
Nestor.  "Thou  knowest  that  King  Orsilochus  has 
ever  been  our  friend  and  ally  ;  yet  shall  we  allow  his 
lawless  men  thus  to  despoil  our  neighbors  and  old-time 
comrades  ? " 

"  Send  to  Pherae,  with  the  young  man,  a  trusty  mes- 
senger who  shall  speak  for  him,"  answered  old  Neleus. 
"  Send  them  both  in  thy  own  chariot,  and  ask  Orsilo- 
chus, in  the  name  of  a  friend,  to  deal  justly  with  the 
son  of  Laertes." 


132  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

By  this  time  Odysseus  and  the  bard  had  awakened 
from  their  slumber.  They  arose ;  and  when  they  had 
bathed,  and  had  been  anointed  with  soft  oil,  they  clothed 
themselves  in  robes  of  noble  texture,  and  went  down 
into  the  banquet  hall.  There  they  found  King  Nestor 
waiting  ;  and  they  sat  down  with  him  at  the  table,  and 
willing  servants  waited  on  them,  bringing  choice  food 
and  pouring  sweet  wine  into  golden  goblets. 

When  the  meal  was  finished,  the  bard  bade  his  host 
farewell  ;  and,  praying  that  the  gods  would  speed 
Odysseus  on  his  errand,  he  went  down  to  the  red- 
prowed  ship  which  was  waiting  by  the  shore.  And  as 
soon  as  he  stepped  on  board,  the  sailors  loosed  the 
moorings,  and  set  the  sail ;  and  a  brisk  wind  bore  them 
swiftly  back  towards  Ithaca. 

But  Nestor  spoke  to  the  young  men  about  him, 
"Bring  out  my  finest  horses,  and  yoke  them  forth- 
with  to  my  lightest  car.  They  shall  carry  Odysseus  on 
his  journey  across  the  plain  to  Pherae  ;  and  my  son 
Antilochus  shall  bear  him  company,  and  be  my  messen- 
ger to  the  Messenian  king." 

Soon  the  car  was  ready.  The  young  men  took  their 
places ;  and  Antilochus  touching  the  restive  horses 
with  his  whip,  they  sped  across  the  dusty  plain.  It 
was  a  rough  and  tiresome  journey,  along  unbroken 
ways,  and  roads  scarcely  marked  with  tracks  of  wheels 
or  horses'  hoofs ;  and  night  had  begun  to  fall  ere  they 
came  to  the  river  Nedon  and  the  high  walls  of  Pherae 
where  dwelt  Orsilochus,  the  king  of  Messene. 


ALPHEUS    AND    ARETHUSA. 


ADVENTURE  XI. 


THE   BOW   OF   EURYTUS. 

In  Arcadia  there  is  a  little  mountain  stream  called 
Alpheus.  It  flows  through  woods  and  meadows  and 
among  the  hills  for  many  miles,  and  then  it  sinks 
beneath  the  rocks.  Farther  down  the  valley  it  rises 
again,  and  dancing  and  sparkling,  as  if  in  happy  chase 
of  something,  it  hurries  onward  towards  the  plain ;  but 
soon  it  hides  itself  a  second  time  in  underground  cav- 
erns, making  its  way  through  rocky  tunnels  where  the 
light  of  day  has  never  been.  Then  at  last  it  gushes 
once  more  from  its  prison  chambers ;  and,  flowing 
thence  with  many  windings  through  the  fields  of  Elis, 
it  empties  its  waters  into  the  sea. 

Of  this  strange  river  a  strange  tale  is  told,  and  this 
is  what  Antilochus  related  to  Odysseus  as  they  rode 
across  the  plain  towards  Pherae  :  — 

"  Years  ago  there  was  no  river  Alpheus  ;  the  channel 
through  which  it  flows  had  not  then  been  hollowed  out, 
and  rank  grass  and  tall  bending  reeds  grew  thick  where 
now  its  waters  sparkle  brightest.     It  was  then  that  a 

*33 


134  ^  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

huntsman,  bearing  the  name  of  Alpheus,  ranged  through 
the  woods,  and  chased  the  wild  deer  among  the  glades 
and  glens  of  sweet  Arcadia.  Far  away  by  the  lonely 
sea  dwelt  Telegona,  his  fair  young  wife,  and  his  lovely 
babe  Orsilochus  ;  but  dearer  than  home  or  wife  or  babe 
to  Alpheus,  was  the  free  life  of  the  huntsman  among 
the  mountain  solitudes.  For  he  loved  the  woods  and 
the  blue  sky  and  the  singing  birds,  and  the  frail  flowers 
upon  the  hillside ;  and  he  longed  to  live  among  them 
always,  where  his  ears  could  listen  to  their  music,  and 
his  eyes  look  upon  their  beauty. 

"  '  O  Artemis,  huntress-queen  ! '  he  cried,  '  I  ask  but 
one  boon  of  thee.  Let  me  ramble  forever  among  these 
happy  scenes ! ' 

"And  Artemis  heard  him,  and  answered  his  prayer. 
For,  as  he  spoke,  a  bright  vision  passed  before  him.  A 
sweet-faced  maiden  went  tripping  down  the  valley,  cull- 
ing the  choicest  flowers,  and  singing  of  hope  and  joy 
and  the  blessedness  of  a  life  pure  and  true.  It  was 
Arethusa,  the  Arcadian  nymph,  by  some  supposed  to 
be  a  daughter  of  old  Nereus,  the  elder  of  the  sea.  Then 
Alpheus  heard  no  more  the  songs  of  the  birds,  or  the 
music  of  the  breeze ;  he  saw  no  longer  the  blue  sky 
above  him,  or  the  nodding  flowers  at  his  feet :  he  was 
blind  and  deaf  to  all  the  world,  save  only  the  beautiful 
nymph.  Arethusa  was  the  world  to  him.  He  reached 
out  his  arms  to  catch  her  ;  but,  swifter  than  a  frightened 
deer,  she  fled  down  the  valley,  through  deep  ravines 
and  grassy  glades  and  rocky  caverns  underneath  the 


The  Bow  of  Eurytus.  135 

hills,  and  out  into  the  grassy  meadows,  and  across  the 
plains  of  Elis,  to  the  sounding  sea.  And  Alpheus  fol- 
lowed, forgetful  of  every  thing  but  the  fleeing  vision. 
When,  at  length,  he  reached  the  sea,  he  looked  back ; 
and,  lo !  he  was  no  longer  a  huntsman,  but  a  river  doomed 
to  meander  forever  among  the  scenes,  for  love  of  which, 
he  had  forgotten  his  wife  and  his  babe  and  the  duties 
of  life.  It  was  thus  that  Artemis  answered  his  prayer. 
"And  men  say  that  Arethusa  the  nymph  was  after- 
wards changed  into  a  fountain  ;  and  that  to  this  day,  in 
the  far-off  island  of  Ortygia,  that  fountain  gushes  from 
the  rocks  in  an  unfailing,  crystal  stream.  But  Orsilo- 
chus,  the  babe  forgotten  by  his  father,  grew  to  man- 
hood, and  in  course  of  time  became  the  king  of  Pherae 
and  the  seafaring  people  of  Messene." 

When  Odysseus  and  his  companion  reached  Pherae, 
the  sun  had  set  and  the  gates  of  the  palace  were  closed. 
But  the  porter  sent  a  messenger  into  the  hall  where 
King  Orsilochus  was  sitting  at  the  evening  meal,  who 
said,  "  O  king,  the  car  of  Nestor,  our  worthy  neighbor, 
stands  outside  the  gate ;  and  in  the  car  are  two  young 
men,  richly  clothed  like  princes,  and  bearing  themselves 
in  a  most  princely  manner." 

Forthwith  the  king  arose,  and  went  out  to  the  gate, 
and  welcomed  the  young  men  to  his  city  and  his  high- 
built  halls.  And  he  took  them  by  the  hand,  and  led 
them  into  the  feast-chamber  where  the  chiefs  of  Pherae 
and  Messene  already  sat  at  meat.     He  put  the  spears 


136  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

which  they  bore,  in  a  spear-stand,  where  were  other 
goodly  weapons  leaning  against  the  wall.  Then  he 
seated  them  on  chairs  of  cunning  workmanship,  be- 
neath which  were  linen  rugs  of  many  colors ;  and  he 
gave  to  each  an  oaken  footstool  for  his  feet  Then  a 
maid  poured  water  into  a  basin  of  silver,  that  they 
might  wash  their  hands  ;  and  she  drew  a  polished  table 
near  them,  on  which  another  maid  placed  white  loaves 
of  bread,  and  many  dainties  well-pleasing  to  the  taste  of 
tired  travellers.  And  the  carver  brought  divers  tempt- 
ing dishes  of  roasted  meats ;  and  a  herald  poured  red 
wine  into  golden  bowls,  and  set  them  within  easy  reach. 

When  they  had  eaten,  and  had  forgotten  their  hunger 
and  thirst  and  weariness,  an  old  blind  bard  came  into 
the  hall ;  and  as  he  sat  in  a  high  seat  leaning  against  a 
pillar,  he  took  his  harp  in  his  hand,  and,  touching  it 
with  his  deft  fingers,  sang  sweet  songs  of  the  gods  and 
the  heroes  and  famous  men.  Not  until  he  had  finished 
his  music  and  laid  aside  his  harp,  did  Orsilochus 
venture  to  speak  of  any  thing  that  might  disturb  the 
pleasure  of  his  guests.  Then  with  well-chosen  words, 
he  asked  them  their  names  and  their  errand. 

"Our  fathers,"  answered  Odysseus,  "are  Nestor  and 
Laertes,  well  known  among  the  heroes  who  sailed  with 
Jason  to  the  golden  strand  of  Colchis  ;  and  the  errand 
upon  which  we  come  is  one  of  right  and  justice." 

And  then  he  told  the  king  how  the  crews  of  the 
Messenian  ships  had  landed  in  Ithaca  and  carried  away 
his  father's  choicest  flock.     Orsilochus  listened  kindly ; 


The  Bow  of  Eurytus.  137 

and  when  Odysseus  had  ended,  he  said,  "Think  no 
more  of  this  troublesome  matter,  for  I  will  see  that  it 
is  righted  at  once.  The  men  who  dared  thus  to  wrong 
your  father  shall  restore  fourfold  the  value  of  the  stolen 
flocks,  and  shall  humbly  beg  the  pardon  of  Laertes,  as 
well  as  of  myself.  I  have  spoken,  and  it  shall  be  done  ; 
but  you  must  tarry  a  while  with  me  in  Pherae,  and  be 
my  honored  guest." 

Thus  Odysseus  brought  to  a  happy  end  the  quest 
upon  which  he  had  come  to  Messene  and  the  high- 
walled  town  of  Pherae.  And  he  tarried  many  days  in 
the  pleasant  halls  of  the  king,  and  was  held  in  higher 
honor  than  all  the  other  guests.  But  Antilochus,  on 
the  second  morning,  mounted  again  his  father's  chariot, 
and  journeyed  onward  into  Laconia :  why  he  went 
thither,  and  did  not  return  to  Pylos,  Odysseus  was  soon 
to  learn. 

One  evening  there  came  to  Pherae  a  lordly  stranger, 
bringing  with  him  a  train  of  well-armed  men  and  bear- 
ing a  handsome  present  for  Orsilochus.  He  was  very 
tall  and  handsome ;  he  stood  erect  as  a  mountain  pine, 
and  his  eyes  flashed  keen  and  sharp  as  those  of  an 
eagle ;  but  his  long  white  hair  and  frosted  beard  be- 
tokened a  man  of  many  years,  and  his  furrowed  brow 
showed  plainly  that  he  had  not  lived  free  from  care. 

"  I  am  Iphitus  of  CEchalia,"  he  said,  "  and  I  am 
journeying  to  Lacedaemon  where  great  Tyndareus 
rules." 

When    Odysseus   heard   the    name    of    Iphitus,    he 


138  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

remembered  it  as  that  of  a  dear  friend  of  whom  his 
father  had  often  spoken  ;  and  he  asked,  — 

"Are  you  that  Iphitus  who  sailed  with  Jason  to 
golden  Colchis  ?  And  do  you  remember  among  your 
comrades,  one  Laertes  of  Ithaca  ?  " 

"There  is  but  one  Iphitus,"  was  the  answer,  "and  I 
am  he.  Never  can  I  forget  the  noble-hearted  Laertes 
of  Ithaca ;  for,  on  board  the  Argo,  he  was  my  mess- 
mate, my  bedfellow,  my  friend,  my  sworn  brother. 
There  is  no  man  whom  I  love  more  dearly.  Would 
that  I  could  see  him,  or  even  know  that  he  still  lives  ! " 

When  he  learned  that  Odysseus  was  the  son  of  his 
old-time  friend,  he  was  overjoyed ;  and  he  took  him 
by  the  hand,  and  wept  for  very  gladness.  Then  he 
asked  the  young  man  *a  thousand  questions  about  his 
father  and  his  mother,  and  his  father's  little  kingdom 
of  Ithaca.  And  Odysseus  answered  him  truly ;  for  his 
heart  was  filled  with  love  for  the  noble  old  hero,  and  he 
felt  justly  proud  of  his  friendship.  And  after  this,  so 
long  as  they  staid  at  Pherae,  the  young  man  and  the  old 
were  constantly  together. 

One  day,  as  they  were  walking  alone  outside  of  the 
city  walls,  Iphitus  said,  "Do  you  see  this  noble  bow 
which  I  carry,  and  which  I  always  keep  within  easy 
reach  ? " 

"It  would  be  hard  not  to  see  it,"  answered  Odysseus, 
smiling;  "for  where  you  are,  there  also  is  the  bow.  I 
have  often  wondered  why  you  guard  it  with  so  great 
care." 


The  Bow  of  JSurytus.  139 

-"It  is  the  bow  of  my  father  Eurytus,"  answered 
the  hero,  "  and,  next  to  Apollo's  silver  weapon,  it  is  the 
aiost  wonderful  ever  made.  My  father  dwelt  in  GEcha- 
ha,  and  was  skilled  in  archery  above  all  other  men  ; 
jnd  the  sons  of  the  heroes  came  to  him  to  learn  how 
»o  shoot  the  silent  arrow  with  most  deadly  aim.  Even 
Heracles,  the  mightiest  of  earth-dwellers,  was  taught 
by  him  ;  but  Heracles  requited  him  unkindly. 

"  In  my  father's  halls,  close  by  the  shore  of  the  east- 
ern sea,  there  were  many  bright  treasures  and  precious 
gems  and  rarest  works  of  art.  But  more  beautiful  than 
any  of  these,  and  more  precious  to  my  father's  heart 
than  any  glittering  jewel,  was  our  only  sister,  the  lovely 
Iole.  And  when  Heracles  went  out  from  the  land  of 
his  birth  to  toil  and  do  the  bidding  of  false  Eurystheus, 
he  tarried  for  a  day  in  my  father's  halls.  There  he  saw 
Iole,  the  blue-eyed  maiden,  and  his  great  strong  heart 
was  taken  captive  by  her  gentle  will ;  but  the  stern  words 
of  Eurystheus  fell  upon  his  ears,  and  bade  him  go  forth 
at  once  to  the  labors  which  had  been  allotted  him.  He 
went ;  for  he  had  vowed,  long  time  before,  always  to 
obey  the  calls  of  duty.  And  Iole  grieved  for  him  in 
secret ;  yet  every  day  she  grew  wiser  and  more  beauti- 
ful, and  every  day  the  tendrils  of  her  love  were  twined 
more  and  more  closely  about  my  father's  heart. 

"  Heracles  went  out  to  do  the  thankless  tasks  which 
his  master  Eurystheus  had  bidden  him  do.  In  the 
swamps  of  Lerna,  he  slew  the  nine-headed  Hydra, 
and  dipped  his  arrows  in  its  poisonous  blood.     In  the 


140  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

forests  of  Arcadia,  he  caught  the  brazen-footed  stag 
sacred  to  Artemis.  In  the  snowy  glens  of  Eryraan- 
thus,  he  hunted  the  fierce  wild  boar  which  had  long 
been  the  terror  of  men  ;  and,  having  caught  him  in  a 
net,  he  carried  him  to  Mycenae.  In  Elis  he  cleansed 
the  stables  of  Augeas,  turning  the  waters  of  the  river 
Alpheus  into  the  stalls  of  his  oxen.  In  the  marshes  of 
Stymphalus,  he  put  to  flight  the  loathsome  Harpies, 
and  rested  not  from  following  them  until  they  were 
outside  the  borders  of  Hellas.  In  the  sunset  land  of 
the  Hesperides,  he  plucked  the  golden  apples  which 
hung  ripe  in  the  gardens  of  Here  ;  and  he  slew  the  fiery 
dragon  that  kept  watch  and  ward  around  them.  And, 
lastly,  he  went  down  into  the  dark  kingdom  of  Hades, 
and  brought  thence  the  mighty  hound  Cerberus,  carry- 
ing him  in  his  strong  arms  into  the  very  presence  of 
Eurystheus.  All  these  deeds,  and  many  more,  did  Hera- 
cles, because  they  were  tasks  set  for  him  by  his  mas- 
ter ;  but  other  things,  even  mightier  than  they,  did  he 
do  because  of  his  love  for  suffering  men.'  At  length, 
when  the  days  of  his  servitude  to  Eurystheus  were 
ended,  he  came  again  to  Hellas,  and  dwelt  a  long  time 
in  Calydon  with  his  old-time  friend  Oineus." 

When  Iphitus  had  thus  spoken,  he  was  silent  for  a 
time  ;  and  Odysseus,  seeing  that  he  was  busy  with  his 
own  thoughts,  asked  him  no  questions.  Then,  as  if 
talking  in  a  dream,  he  said,  — 

"  Do  you  see  this  bow,  —  the  bow  of  my  father  Eury- 

1  See  Note  1 1  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


The  Bow  of  Eurytus.  141 

tus  ?  Much  grief  has  it  brought  upon  our  house  ;  and 
yet  it  was  not  the  bow,  but  my  father's  overweening 
pride,  that  wrought  the  mischief,  and  caused  me  to  go 
sorrowing  through  life.  Shall  I  finish  my  story  by  tell- 
ing you  how  it  all  ended  ?  " 

"Tell  me  all,"  answered  Odysseus. 

"  My  father  Eurytus,  as  I  have  said,  was  the  king  of 
archers ;  for  no  man  could  draw  an  arrow  with  so  un- 
erring aim  as  he,  and  no  man  could  send  it  straight  to 
the  mark  with  a  more  deadly  force.  Every  thought 
of  his  waking  hours  was  upon  his  bow,  and  he  aspired 
to  excel  even  the  archery  of  Artemis  and  Apollo.  At 
length  he  sent  a  challenge  into  every  city  of  Hellas  : 
'  Whosoever  will  excel  Eurytus  in  shooting  with  the  bow 
and  arrows,  let  him  come  to  (Echalia,  and  try  his  skill. 
The  prise  to  be  given  to  him  wlw  succeeds  is  Iole,  the  fair 
daughter  of  Eurytus.' 

"  Then  there  came  to  the  contest,  great  numbers  of 
young  men,  the  pride  of  Hellas.  But  when  they  saw 
this  wonderful  bow  of  Eurytus,  and  tried  its  strength, 
their  hearts  sank  within  them  ;  and  when  they  aimed 
their  shafts  at  the  target,  they  shot  far  wide  of  the  mark, 
and  my  father  sent  them  home  ashamed  and  without 
the  prize. 

"  '  My  dearest  Iole,'  he  would  often  say,  '  I  am  not 
afraid  of  losing  you,  for  there  lives  no  man  who  knows 
the  bow  as  well  as  I.' 

"But  by  and  by  great  Heracles  heard  of  my  lather's 
boasts,  and  of  the  prize  which  he  had  offered. 


142  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"  'I  will  go  down  to  GEchalia,'  said  he,  'and  I  will  win 
the  fair  Iole  for  my  bride.' 

"  And  when  he  came,  my  father  remembered  how  he 
had  taught  him  archery  in  his  youth  ;  and  he  felt  that 
in  his  old  pupil  he  had  at  last  found  a  peer.  Yet  he 
would  not  cease  his  boasting.  '  If  the  silver-bowed 
Apollo  should  come  to  try  his  skill,  I  would  not  fear  to 
contend  even  with  him.' 

"Then  the  target  was  set  up,  so  far  away  that  it 
seemed  as  if  one  might  as  well  shoot  at  the  sun. 

"'Now,  my  good  bow,'  said  my  father,  'thou  hast 
never  failed  me  :  do  thou  serve  me  better  to-day  than 
ever  before  ! ' 

"  He  drew  the  strong  cord  back,  bending  the  bow  to 
its  utmost  tension  ;  and  then  the  swift  arrow  leaped 
from  its  place,  and  sped  like  a  beam  of  light  straight 
towards  the  mark.  But,  before  it  reached  its  goal, 
the  strength  which  my  father's  arm  had  imparted  to  it 
began  to  fail ;  it  wavered  in  the  air,  its  point  turned 
downward,  and  it  struck  the  ground  at  the  foot  of  the 
target. 

"  Then  Heracles  took  up  his  bow,  and  carelessly  aimed 
a  shaft  at  the  distant  mark.  Like  the  lightning  which 
Zeus  hurls  from  the  high  clouds  straight  down  upon  the 
head  of  some  lordly  oak,  so  flashed  the  unfailing  arrow 
through  the  intervening  space,  piercing  the  very  centre 
of  the  target. 

'"Lo,  now,  Eurytus,  my  old-time  friend,'  said  Hera- 
cles, '  thou  seest  that  I  have  won  the  victory  over  thee 


The  Bow  of  Eurytus.  143 

Where  now  is  the  prize,  even  the  lovely  Iole,  that  was 
promised  to  him  who  could  shoot  better  than  thou  ? ' 

"  But  my  father's  heart  sank  within  him,  and  shame 
and  grief  took  mighty  hold  of  him.  And  he  sent  Iole 
away  in  a  swift-sailing  ship,  to  the  farther  shores  of  the 
sea,  and  would  not  give  her  to  Heracles  as  he  had 
promised.  Then  the  great  hero  turned  him  about  in 
anger,  and  went  back  to  his  home  in  Calydon,  threat- 
ening vengeance  upon  the  house  of  Eurytus.  I  be- 
sought my  father  that  he  would  remember  his  word, 
and  would  call  Iole  home  again,  and  would  send  her  to 
Heracles  to  be  his  bride.  But  he  would  not  hearken, 
for  the  great  sorrow  which  weighed  upon  him.  He 
placed  his  matchless  bow  in  my  hands,  and  bade  me 
keep  it  until  I  should  find  a  young  hero  worthy  to 
bear  it. 

'"It  has  served  me  well,'  he  said,  'but  I  shall  never 
need  it  more.'  Then  he  bowed  his  head  upon  his 
hands,  and  when  I  looked  again  the  life  had  gone  from 
him.  Some  men  say  that  Apollo,  to  punish  him  for  his 
boasting,  slew  him  with  one  of  his  silent  arrows  ;  others 
say  that  Heracles  smote  him  because  he  refused  to  give 
to  the  victor  the  promised  prize,  even  fair  Iole,  the  idol 
of  his  heart.  But  I  know  that  it  was  grief  and  shame, 
and  neither  Apollo  nor  Heracles,  that  brought  death 
upon  him. 

"  As  to  Heracles,  he  dwelt  a  long  time  in  Calydon, 
where  he  wooed  and  won  the  princess  Deianeira,  the 
daughter  of  old  Oineus  ;  but  the  memory  of  Iole,  as  she 


144  A  Story  0/  the   Golden  Age. 

had  been  to  him  in  the  bright  days  of  his  youth,  was 
never  blotted  from  his  mind.  And  the  people  of 
Calydon  loved  him,  because,  with  all  his  greatness 
and  his  strength,  he  was  the  friend  and  helper  of  the 
weak  and  needy.  But  one  day,  at  a  feast,  he  killed  by 
accident  a  little  boy  in  the  palace  of  Oineus,  named 
Eunomos ;  and  his  heart  was  filled  with  grief,  and  he 
took  his  wife  Deianeira,  and,  leaving  Calydon,  he  jour- 
neyed aimlessly  about  until  he  came  to  Trachis  in 
Thessaly.  There  he  built  him  a  home,  but  his  restless 
spirit  would  give  him  no  peace ;  and  so,  leaving  Deia- 
neira in  Trachis,  he  came  back  towards  Argolis  by  way 
of  the  sea.  Three  moons  ago,  I  met  him  in  Tiryns. 
He  greeted  me  as  a  dear  old  friend,  and  kindly  offered 
to  help  me  in  the  undertaking  which  I  had  then  on 
foot ;  for  robbers  had  driven  from  my  pastures  twelve 
brood  mares,  the  finest  in  all  Hellas,  and  I  was  search- 
ing for  them. 

"'Go  you  with  your  men  into  Messene,'  said  he, 
'for  doubtless  you  will  find  that  which  you  seek  among 
the  lawless  men  who  own  Orsilochus  as  king.  If  you 
find  them  not,  come  again  to  Tiryns,  and  I  will  aid 
you  in  further  search,  and  will  have  them  restored  to 
you,  even  though  Hermes,  or  great  Autolycus,  be  the 
thief.' 

"  So  I  left  him,  and  came  hither  to  Messene,  and 
to  the  high-walled  towers  of  Pherae ;  and  thus  you 
know  my  errand  which  I  have  kept  hidden  from  Orsilo- 
chus.    I  have  found  no  traces  of  the  stolen  mares ;  and 


The  Bow  of  Eurytus.  145 

so  to-morrow  I  shall  return  to  Argolis  and  Tiryns 
where  the  great  hero  waits  for  me." 

Much  more  would  godlike  Iphitus  have  spoken  ;  but 
now  the  sun  had  set,  and  the  two  friends  hastened  back 
to  the  palace  of  Orsilochus. 

"  Never  have  I  met  a  man  whose  friendship  I  prized 
more  highly  than  thine,"  said  Odysseus,  as  they  crossed 
the  courtyard,  and  each  was  about  to  retire  to  his 
chamber.  "  I  pray  that  thou  wilt  take  this  sharp 
sword,  which  was  my  father's,  and  this  mighty  spear, 
as  tokens  of  the  beginnings  of  a  loving  friendship." 
And  the  young  man  put  the  noble  weapons  into  the 
old  hero's  hands. 

"  And  do  tkou  take  in  return  an  equal  present,"  said 
Iphitus.  "  Here  is  the  matchless  bow  of  Eurytus  my 
father  ;  it  shall  be  thine,  and  shall  be  to  thee  a  worthy 
token  of  the  love  which  I  bear  towaids  thee." 

Odysseus  took  the  bow.  It  was  a  bow  of  marvellous 
beauty,  and  its  strength  was  so  great  that  no  man,  save 
its  proud  new  owner,  could  string  it.  It  was  indeed 
a  matchless  gift,  and  a  treasure  to  be  prized. 


ADVENTURE  XI L 


THE  MOST   BEAUTIFUL  WOMAN   IN 
THE  WORLD. 

Very  early  on  the  following  day,  Iphitus  bade  Orsilo- 
chus  farewell,  and  started  on  his  journey  back  towards 
Tiryns ;  and  Odysseus,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  went  with 
him,  riding  in  the  same  chariot. 

"  I  know  that  you  want  to  go  into  Laconia,"  Iphitus 
had  said.  "  Why  not  go  now  ?  For  I  and  my  brave 
men  will  convoy  you  safely  as  far  as  Lacedaemon ;  and 
when  there,  I  will  commend  you  to  my  old  comrades, 
Castor  and  Polydeuces,  who  dwell  in  the  palace  of  their 
father,  King  Tyndareus." 

And  Odysseus  had  gladly  consented  ;  for,  although 
his  host  had  pressed  him  hard  to  stay  longer,  he  was 
very  anxious  for  many  reasons  to  visit  Lacedaemon. 

For  two  days  the  company  travelled  slowly  eastward. 

They  crossed   the  mountain  land  which  lies  between 

Messene  and  Laconia,  and  came  to  the  plain,  rich  with 

wheat-fields,  which  lay  beyond.     And  now  the  way  was 

easier,  and  the  road  led  straight  towards  Lacedaemon. 

At  noon  on  the  second  day,  they  rested  upon  the 
146 


The  Most  Beautiful  Woman  in  the  World.     147 

banks  of  a  little  stream  ;  and,  as  the  sun  was  hot,  they 
sat  a  long  time  in  the  pleasant  shade  of  some  trees 
which  grew  not  far  from  the  roadside.  Some  distance 
down  the  valley  they  caught  glimpses  of  the  high  towers 
of  the  city ;  and  now  and  then  they  heard  the  sound  of 
busy  workers  within  the  walls,  or  the  shouts  of  the 
toilers  in  the  neighboring  fields.  A  ride  of  only  a  few 
minutes  would  bring  them  to  the  gates  of  Lacedasmon. 

While  they  were  thus  waiting  and  resting,  an  old 
minstrel,  who  had  come  out  of  the  city,  joined  them 
by  the  roadside,  and  began  to  entertain  them.  At  first 
he  played  sweetly  upon  his  lyre,  and  sang  songs,  new 
and  old,  which  he  thought  would  be  pleasing  to  his 
listeners.  Then  he  told  them  stories  of  the  times,  now 
long  past,  when  yet  men  lived  in  peaceful  innocence, 
unbeset  with  eating  cares. 

"And  now,"  he  said,  "since  you  are  about  to  enter 
Lacedasmon,  and  will  spend  the  night  within  the  kingly 
halls  of  great  Tyndareus,  you  must  needs  hear  of  the 
beauty  and  the  courage  and  the  wealth  for  which  this 
city  is  far  famed  among  all  the  states  of  Hellas.  The 
riches  of  which  we  boast  cannot  be  measured  like  gold 
and  precious  stones ;  our  wealth  lies  in  the  courage  and 
true-heartedness  of  our  men,  and  in  the  beauty  and  de- 
votedness  of  our  women." 

And  then  he  told  them  of  the  four  wonderful  chil- 
dren whom  King  Tyndareus  and  his  wife  Leda  had 
reared  in  the  pleasant  halls  of  Lacedasmon,  —  Castor 
and  Polydeuces,  the  devoted  brothers ;  and  the  sisters, 


148  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

proud  Clytemnestra,  and  Helen  the  beautiful.  He  told 
how  Castor  and  Polydeuces  were  famed  among  all  the 
heroes  of  Greece ;  how  they  had  sailed  with  Jason  on 
the  Argo  ;  how  they  had  hunted  the  wild  boar  in  the 
woods  of  Calydon ;  and  how  they  had  fought  under  the 
banner  of  Peleus  when  he  stormed  the  town  of  Iolcos, 
and  drove  the  false  Acastus  from  his  kingdom.  He 
told  how  Helen,  while  yet  a  mere  child,  had  been  stolen 
from  her  home  and  her  parents,  and  carried  by  Theseus 
of  Athens  to  far-distant  Attica ;  and  how  her  brothers 
Castor  and  Polydeuces  had  rescued  her,  and  brought 
her  back  to  her  loving  friends  in  Lacedaemon.  He  told 
how  the  two  brothers  excelled  in  all  the  arts  of  war, 
and  in  feats  of  courage  and  skill ;  how  Castor  was  re- 
nowned at  home  and  abroad  as  a  tamer  of  horses,  and 
how  Polydeuces  was  without  a  peer  as  a  boxer  and  as 
a  skilful  wielder  of  the  sword.  And  he  told  how  the 
beauty  of  Helen  had  brought  hosts  of  suitors  from 
every  quarter  of  the  world ;  and  how  her  father,  old 
Tyndareus,  was  all  the  time  beset  with  courtiers, 
princes,  and  heroes,  the  noblest  of  the  earth, — all 
beseeching  him  for  the  hand  of  the  matchless  fair 
one. 

No  one  knows  how  long  the  old  man  would  have 
kept  on  talking,  had  not  Iphitus  bade  him  cease.  "  We 
have  heard  already,  a  thousand  times,  the  tales  that 
you  tell  us,"  he  said.  "  Waste  no  more  time  with  vain 
words  which  are  on  the  tongue  of  every  news-monger 
in  Argolis ;  but  make  haste  back  to  the  city,  and  say 


The  Most  Beautiful  Woman  in  the  World.     149 

to  Castor  and  Polydeuces  that  Iphitus,  who  erstwhile 
was  their  comrade  on  the  Argo,  waits  outside  the 
gates  of  Lacedaemon." 

The  minstrel  bowed,  and  said,  "  It  is  not  for  me  to 
act  the  part  of  a  herald  for  a  stranger.  But  do  you 
send  one  of  your  young  men  into  the  city,  and  I  will 
gladly  go  with  him  into  the  broad  palace  of  the  king, 
where  he  may  announce  your  coming." 

Then  Iphitus  called  to  one  of  the  young  men  in  his 
company,  and  bade  him  go  before  them  to  the  palace, 
to  herald  their  coming ;  and  the  old  minstrel  went  with 
him. 

Now  when  the  sun  was  beginning  to  sink  behind  the 
heights  of  lofty  Taygetes,  the  company  arose  from  their 
resting-place  by  the  roadside,  and  began  to  move  slowly 
towards  the  city.  At  the  same  time,  two  horsemen 
came  out  through  the  gate,  and  rode  rapidly  up  the 
valley  to  meet  them.  Iphitus  waved  his  long-plumed 
helmet  in  the  air,  and  shouted  aloud.  "There  they 
come,"  he  cried,  —  "  the  twin  heroes  !  as  noble  and  as 
handsome,  and  seemingly  as  young,  as  when  we  sailed 
together  on  the  Argo." 

It  seemed  but  a  moment  until  the  horsemen  ap- 
proached and  drew  rein  before  them.  They  were  tall 
and  comely  youths,  exceedingly  fair,  and  so  alike  that 
no  man  could  tell  which  one  was  Castor  or  which  Poly- 
deuces. Their  armor  was  of  gold,  and  glowed  in  the 
light  of  the  setting  sun  like  watch-fires  on  the  moun- 
tain-tops.    Their  steeds  were  white  as  snow,  with  long 


150  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

manes  that  glimmered  and  shone  like  the  silvery  beams 
of  the  moon  on  a  still  summer's  evening. 

"  All  hail,  our  old-time  comrade ! "  they  cried.  "Wel- 
come to  the  halls  of  Lacedaemon  !  We  bid  you  welcome 
in  the  name  of  our  aged  father,  King  Tyndareus." 

Then  they  turned,  and  led  the  way  to  the  lofty  palace 
gates. 

As  Odysseus  and  his  aged  friend  dismounted  from 
their  car,  a  score  of  ready  squires  came  out  to  serve 
them.  Some  loosed  the  horses  from  the  yoke,  and  led 
them  to  the  stables,  and  fed  them  plentifully  with  oats 
and  white-barley  grains ;  others  tilted  the  car  against 
the  wall  of  the  outer  court,  so  that  no  careless  passer-by 
would  run  against  or  injure  it ;  and  still  others  carried 
the  arms  of  the  heroes  into  the  spacious  hall,  and  leaned 
them  with  care  against  the  grooved  columns. 

Then  Castor  and  Polydeuces,  the  glorious  twins,  led 
the  heroes  into  the  broad  hall  of  King  Tyndareus. 
Odysseus  gazed  about  him  with  wondering  eyes,  for  he 
had  never  seen  so  great  magnificence.  Walls  of  pol- 
ished marble  ran  this  way  and  that  from  the  brazen 
threshold ;  the  doors  were  of  carved  oak  inlaid  with 
gold,  and  the  door-posts  were  of  shining  silver.  With- 
in were  seats  and  sumptuous  couches  ranged  against 
the  wall,  from  the  entrance  even  to  the  inner  cham- 
bers ;  and  upon  them  were  spread  light  coverings, 
woven  and  embroidered  by  the  deft  hands  of  women. 
And  so  great  was  the  sheen  of  brass,  of  gold  and  silver, 
and  of  precious  gems,  within  this  hall,  that  the  light 


The  Most  Beautiful  Woman  in  the  World.     151 

gleamed  from  floor  to  ceiling,  like  the  beams  of  the  sun 
or  the  round  full  moon.1 

The  aged  king  was  pleased  to  see  the  heroes ;  for 
Iphitus  and  he  had  been  lifelong  friends,  firm  and  true, 
through  every  turn  of  fortune.  And  when  he  learned 
the  name  and  parentage  of  young  Odysseus,  he  took 
him  by  the  hand,  and  bade  him  welcome  for  the  sake 
of  his  father,  good  Laertes. 

The  first  words  of  greeting  having  been  spoken, 
Odysseus,  still  wondering,  went  down  into  the  polished 
baths.  There,  when  he  had  bathed,  he  clothed  himself 
in  princely  garments ;  and  he  threw  a  soft,  rich  cloak 
about  his  shoulders,  and  made  himself  ready  to  stand 
in  the  presence  of  beauty,  nobility,  and  courage.  Then 
Polydeuces  led  him  back  into  the  great  hall. 

But  a  change  had  taken  place  while  he  was  gone. 
The  king  was  no  longer  alone.  There  stood  around 
him,  or  sat  upon  couches,  all  the  noblest  young  heroes 
of  Hellas.  The  king's  son-in-law,  tall  Agamemnon  of 
Mycenae,  stood  behind  the  throne ;  and  near  him  was 
his  handsome  brother  Menelaus.  Among  all  the  princes 
then  at  Lacedaemon,  these  two  sons  of  Atreus  were 
accounted  worthiest ;  for  not  only  did  they  excel  in 
strength  and  wisdom,  but  they  were  heirs  to  the  king- 
dom of  Argolis,  and  the  lordship  over  men.  Next  to 
them  stood  Ajax  the  son  of  Telamon ;  he  was  nephew 
to  old  King  Peleus,  who  had  wedded  the  sea-nymph 
in   the   cave-halls  of   Mount    Pelion ;   and   among   the 

1  See  Note  12  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


152  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

younger  heroes  there  was  none  who  equalled  him  in 
bravery. 

Reclining  on  a  couch  at  the  king's  left  hand  was 
another  prince  of  the  same  name,  —  Ajax,  the  son  of 
Oileus.  He  had  come  from  distant  Locris,  where  he 
was  noted  as  the  swiftest  runner  and  the  most  skilful 
spearsman  in  all  Hellas.  He  was  neither  so  tall  nor  so 
handsome  as  the  son  of  Telamon ;  but  the  very  glance 
of  his  eye  and  the  curl  of  his  lip,  made  men  admire 
and  love  him. 

Below  him  stood  Diomede  of  Tiryns,  who,  though 
still  a  mere  youth,  was  a  very  lion  in  war.  His  father, 
brave  Tydeus,  had  met  his  death  while  fighting  with 
the  Thebans ;  but  he  had  long  ago  avenged  him. 

Idomeneus,  a  prince  of  Crete,  known  far  and  wide 
for  his  skill  in  wielding  the  spear,  was  next,  a  man 
already  past  the  prime  of  life.  And  beyond  him  in 
order  were  other  princes  :  Philoctetes  of  Meliboea, 
famous  for  his  archery ;  Machaon,  son  of  Asclepius, 
from  GEchalia,  the  home  of  Iphitus ;  Antilochus  of 
Pylos,  late  the  companion  of  Odysseus  ;  Nireus  of  Syma, 
famed  only  for  his  comeliness ;  and  Menestheus  of 
Athens,  who,  in  the  management  of  men  and  horses 
and  the  ordering  of  battle,  had  not  a  peer  on  earth. 

All  these  were  in  the  hall  of  King  Tyndareus ;  and 
they  received  Odysseus  with  words  of  seeming  kind- 
ness, although  a  shade  of  jealousy  was  plainly  seen 
upon  their  faces.  While  they  were  speaking,  a  min- 
strel entered,  and  began  to  play  deftly  upon  his  lyre ; 


The  Most  Beautiful  Woman  in  the   World.     153 

and,  as  he  played  and  sung,  two  dancers  sprang  upon 
the  floor,  and  whirled  in  giddy  mazes  about  the  hall. 
Then  from  their  high-roofed  chamber,  where  the  air 
was  full  of  sweet  perfumes,  came  three  women  to  listen 
to  the  music.  Helen,  like  in  form  to  Artemis  the 
huntress-queen,  led  the  rest ;  and  when  Odysseus  saw 
her,  he  remembered  no  more  the  golden  splendor  which 
had  dazzled  his  eyes  when  first  he  stood  upon  the 
threshold  of  the  palace,  for  every  thing  else  paled  in 
the  light  of  Helen's  unspeakable  beauty.  Next  to  her 
came  Clytemnestra,  who,  a  few  years  before,  had  been 
wedded  to  Agamemnon  of  Mycense.  She  was  fair,  but 
not  beautiful ;  and  the  glance  which  fell  from  her  eye 
sent  a  thrill  of  pain  to  the  heart  of  the  young  hero. 
The  two  sisters  were  followed  by  their  cousin,  sweet 
Penelope,  who,  blushing  like  the  morning,  kept  her 
eyes  modestly  upon  the  ground,  and  looked  not  once 
towards  the  company  of  princely  strangers.  And,  as 
she  stood  leaning  against  a  lofty  column,  Odysseus 
wondered  within  himself  whether  he  admired  more  the 
glorious  beauty  of  Helen,  or  the  retiring  sweetness  of 
Penelope. 


ADVENTURE  XIII. 


A   RACE   FOR   A   WIFE. 

Days  and  weeks  passed  by,  and  still  Odysseus  tarried 
as  a  guest  at  the  court  of  King  Tyndareus.  His  friend 
Iphitus  had  gone  on  to  Tiryns  to  meet  the  hero  Hera- 
cles, and  had  left  with  him  his  blessing  and  the  bow 
of  Eurytus.  But  the  young  princes  who  had  come  to 
Lacedaemon  to  woo  the  beautiful  Helen  remained  in 
the  palace,  and  each  had  vowed  in  the  secret  of  his 
heart  that  he  would  not  depart  until  he  had  won  the 
matchless  lady  for  his  bride.  Each  had  offered  to 
the  king  gifts  of  countless  value, — gold  and  jewels, 
fine  horses,  and  well-wrought  armor ;  and  each  had 
prayed  him  that  he  would  himself  set  the  bride-price 
for  his  daughter,  and  bestow  her  on  whom  he  would, 
even  on  the  man  who  pleased  him  best.  But  the  king, 
for  reasons  of  his  own,  would  give  them  no  answer. 

All  this  time,  Odysseus  held  himself  aloof  from  the 
crowd  of  wooers,  and  kept  his  own  counsel ;  and,  though 
all  believed  that  he  too  was  smitten  with  love  for  the 
peerless  Helen,  yet  in  his  heart  the  blue-eyed  Penelope 
reigned  queen.     One  day  as  he  sat  alone  with  Tynda 

'54 


A  Race  for  a    Wife.  155 

reus  in  his  chamber,  he  saw  that  the  king  was  sorely 
troubled ;  and  he  began  in  his  own  way  to  find  out  the 
cause  of  his  distress. 

"  Surely,  O  king ! "  he  said,  "  you  are  the  happiest 
of  men.  For  here  you  have,  in  Lacedaemon,  every 
thing  that  can  delight  the  eye,  or  please  the  heart. 
Wherever  you  may  turn,  there  you  see  wealth  and 
beauty ;  and  it  is  all  yours,  to  do  with  as  you  like. 
Your  sons  are  the  bravest  in  the  world  ;  your  daughters 
are  the  fairest ;  your  palace  is  the  most  beautiful ; 
your  kingdom  is  the  strongest.  There  is  certainly 
nothing  to  be  wished  for  that  is  not  already  yours." 

"And  yet,"  answered  Tyndareus,  with  a  sigh,  "I  am 
the  most  miserable  of  mortals.  I  would  rather  be  a 
witless  swineherd  in  the  oak  forests,  living  in  a  hut, 
and  feeding  upon  roots  and  wild  fruits,  than  dwell  in 
this  palace,  beset  with  cares  like  those  which  daily 
weigh  me  down." 

"I  cannot  understand  you,"  said  Odysseus.  "You 
are  at  peace  with  all  the  world ;  your  children  are  all 
with  you  •,  you  have  no  lack  of  comfort.  There  is  noth- 
ing more  for  you  to  desire.  How,  indeed,  can  care 
come  in  through  these  golden  doors,  and  sit  upon  your 
brow,  and  weigh  you  down  with  heaviness  ? " 

"I  will  tell  you,"  answered  the  king,  "for  I  know 
that  I  can  trust  your  good  judgment.  Here  in  my 
palace  are  all  the  noblest  princes  of  Hellas  suing  for 
the  hand  of  Helen,  whom  the  gods  have  cursed  with 
more   than   mortal   beauty.      Each   has   offered   me   a 


156  A  Story  0/  the   Golden  Age. 

price,  and  each  expects  to  win  her.  I  dare  not  with- 
hold her  long  ;  for  then  all  will  become  angered,  and 
my  kingdom  as  well  as  my  daughter  will  be  the  prey 
of  him  who  is  the  strongest.  I  dare  not  give  her  to 
one  of  them,  for  then  the  other  nine  and  twenty  will 
make  cause  against  me  and  bring  ruin  to  Lacedaemon. 
On  this  side  grin  the  heads  of  Scylla,  all  black  with 
death  ;  on  that  side  dread  Charybdis  roars ;  and  there 
is  no  middle  way.  Why,  oh,  why  did  not  the  immor- 
tals bless  my  daughter  by  giving  her  a  homely  face  ?  " 

Then  Odysseus  drew  nearer  to  the  king,  and  spoke 
in  lower  tones.  "  I  pray  you,  do  not  despair,"  he  said. 
"There  is  a  safe  way  out  of  all  this  trouble.  If  you 
will  only  trust  me,  I  will  lead  the  whole  matter  to  a 
happy  issue." 

"How,  how  ? "  eagerly  asked  the  king. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  said  Odysseus.  "  But  you  must 
first  listen  to  a  plea  that  I  have  to  make.  To  you 
alone  it  is  known  that  I  am  not  a  suitor  for  the  hand 
of  Helen,  but  that  my  hopes  are  all  for  coy  Penelope. 
Speak  to  her  father,  your  brother  Icarius,  and  help 
me  win  her  for  my  own,  and  I  will  settle  this  matter 
between  you  and  the  princely  lovers  of  fair  Helen  in  a 
manner  pleasing  to  every  one." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  wish  ! "  cried  the  king,  taking 
heart.  "  I  will  trust  the  management  of  this  business 
to  you,  and  may  the  wise  Pallas  Athene  prosper  you ! " 

The  next  morning  shrewd  Odysseus  arose,  and 
clothed   himself   in   princely   fashion ;    and,   after   the 


A  Race  for  a   Wife.  157 

morning  meal  had  been  eaten,  he  bade  the  heralds  call 
the  suitors  into  the  council  chamber.  And  the  heralds 
called  the  gathering ;  and  the  young  heroes  quickly 
came,  one  after  another,  until  nine  and  twenty  sat 
within  the  chamber  where  the  elders  of  Lacedaemon 
were  wont  to  meet.  Then  Odysseus  stood  on  the 
raised  platform,  close  to  the  door ;  and  Pallas  Athene^ 
unseen  by  the  dull  eyes  of  mortals,  stood  beside  him, 
and  whispered  words  of  wisdom  in  his  ear. 

"  Noble  men  of  Hellas,"  said  Odysseus,  "  I  pray  that 
you  will  hearken  to  the  words  which  I  shall  speak,  and 
that  you  will  duly  weigh  them  in  your  minds.  We  have 
all  come  to  Lacedaemon  with  one  wish  and  one  intent, 
—  and  that  is,  to  win  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
the  world.  We  have  offered,  each  one  for  himself,  a 
bride-price  worthy  of  the  bride ;  yet  the  king,  for 
reasons  which  you  ought  to  understand,  is  slow  in 
bestowing  her  upon  any  of  us.  And  so  weeks  and 
even  months  have  passed,  and  we  are  still  here,  devour- 
ing the  substance  of  our  kind  host,  and  yet  as  far  as 
ever  from  the  prize  which  we  desire.  Now,  it  behooves 
us  to  bring  this  matter  to  an  end ;  for  otherwise  we  all 
shall  suffer  loss  by  being  too  long  absent  from  our 
homes." 

The  princely  suitors  listened  kindly  to  his  words 
and  all  nodded  their  assent.     Then  he  went  on  :  — 

"  Upon  how  many  of  you,  now,  has  the  peerless 
Helen  smiled  as  if  in  admiration  ? " 

Every  man  among  them  raised  his  hand  in  answer. 


158  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"  Who,  among  you  all,  believes  that  fair  Helen 
would  prefer  him,  above  every  other,  for  a  husband  ?  " 

Every  man  arose,  and,  glancing  proudly  around  him, 
answered  "  I !  " 

"I  have,  then,  a  plan  to  offer,"  said  Odysseus. 
"Let  us  leave  the  choice  to  Helen.  And,  in  order  that 
each  may  the  better  show  whether  there  be  aught  of 
nobility  in  him,  let  us  go  forth  straightway,  and  make 
trial  of  all  the  games  in  which  any  one  of  us  excels. 
And  when  the  games  are  ended,  let  glorious  Helen 
come  and  choose  him  whom  she  will  wed." 

At  this  all  the  suitors  shouted  assent ;  for  each  felt 
sure  that  he  would  be  the  chosen  one. 

"  But  hearken  to  one  word  more  ! "  cried  Odysseus. 
"The  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world  is  a  prize  of 
priceless  value ;  and  he  who  wins  that  prize  will  hardly 
keep  it  through  the  might  of  his  unaided  arm.  Let  us 
bind  ourselves  by  an  oath  that  he  whom  Helen  chooses 
shall  be  her  wedded  husband,  and  that  the  rest  will 
depart  at  once  from  Lacedaemon  ;  and  that  if  any  man, 
from  near  or  far,  shall  carry  peerless  Helen  from  her 
husband  or  her  husband's  home,  then  we  will  join  our 
forces,  and  never  falter  in  the  fight  until  we  have 
restored  her  to  him." 

"And  further  still,"  added  Ajax  Telamon,  "let  us 
swear  that  should  any  one  of  us  forget  the  agreement 
made  this  day,  then  the  remaining  nine  and  twenty 
will  cause  swift  punishment,  and  terrible,  to  fall  upon 
him." 


A  Race  for  a   Wife.  159 

Much  more  did  shrewd  Odysseus  and  the  assembled 
princes  say ;  and  in  the  end  they  made  a  solemn  sacri- 
fice to  Father  Zeus,  and  lifting  up  their  hands  they 
swore  that  they  would  hold  to  all  that  had  been  spoken. 
Then,  at  an  hour  which  had  been  set,  they  went  out 
to  make  trial  of  their  skill  in  all  kinds  of  manly  games, 
so  that  each  might  show  wherein  he  excelled  all  other 
men,  and  thus  stand  higher  in  the  regards  of  match- 
less Helen.  And  the  heralds  made  announcement,  and 
a  great  company  followed  them  to  the  broad  market- 
place between  the  palace  and  the  city  walls.  King 
Tyndareus,  happy  that  his  perplexities  were  soon  to 
end,  sat  upon  a  high  throne  overlooking  the  place  ; 
and  at  his  side  stood  the  glorious  twins,  Castor  and 
Polydeuces,  clad  in  their  snow-white  armor.  But 
Helen,  dowered  with  beauty  by  the  gods,  stood  with 
her  maidens  at  the  window  of  her  high-built  chamber, 
and  watched  the  contest  from  afar. 

Then  all  the  suitors,  arrayed  in  princely  garments,  as 
became  the  mightiest  men  of  Hellas,  stood  up  in  the 
lists,  each  for  himself  to  take  his  part  in  the  games. 
And  each  fondly  believed  that  he,  among  them  all,  was 
the  favored  suitor  of  fair  Helen.  But  shrewd  Odysseus 
kept  his  own  counsels,  and  wisely  planned  to  reach  the 
ends  which  he  so  much  desired. 

Then  the  games  began.  And  they  made  trial,  first, 
in  throwing  the  heavy  spear ;  and  gray-bearded  Idome- 
neus  led  all  the  rest.  Then  in  shooting  with  the  bow  ; 
and  Odysseus  was  far  the  best,  for  no  one  else  could 


1 60  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

string  or  handle  the  matchless  bow  of  Eurytus.  Then 
in  throwing  heavy  weights  ;  and  Ajax,  son  of  Telamon, 
sent  a  huge  stone  hurtling  from  his  strong  arms  far 
beyond  all  other  marks.  Then  in  wrestling ;  and  there 
was  not  one  that  could  withstand  the  stout-limbed  son 
of  Oileus.  Then  in  boxing ;  and  Philoctetes,  the  armor- 
bearer  of  Heracles,  carried  off  the  palm.  Then  in 
fencing  with  the  broad-sword ;  and  Diomede  held  the 
championship,  and  found  no  peer.  Then  in  leaping ; 
and  Thoas  of  ^Etolia,  one  of  the  later  comers,  excelled 
all  others.  Then  in  the  foot-race ;  and  here  again  the 
lesser  Ajax  left  all  the  rest  behind. 

And  now  the  car  of  Helios  was  sloping  towards  the 
western  sea,  and  King  Tyndareus  by  a  signal  ordered 
that  the  games  should  cease. 

"  Come,  my  friends,"  said  he,  "  the  day  is  spent,  and 
nothing  can  be  gained  by  further  trials  of  strength  and 
skill.  Let  us  go  forthwith  to  my  banquet  hall,  where 
the  tables  groan  already  with  the  weight  of  the  good 
cheer  which  has  been  provided  for  you.  And  when  you 
have  rested  yourselves,  and  put  away  from  you  the 
thought  of  hunger,  fair  Helen  will  descend  from  he" 
high  chamber,  and  choose  from  among  you  him  who 
shall  be  her  husband." 

And  all  obeyed,  and  went  straightway  to  the  great 
banquet  hall  of  the  king.  Now  the  court,  and  the  hall, 
and  even  the  passage-ways  of  the  palace,  were  thronged 
with  people  old  and  young,  noble  :ind  base-born  ;  for  all 
had  heard  of  what  was  to  follow.     And  the  steward  of 


A  Race  for  a    Wife.  161 

the  king  had  slain  a  score  of  long-wooled  sheep,  and 
many  swine,  and  two  slow-footed  oxen  ;  and  these  he 
had  flayed  and  dressed  for  the  goodly  banquet.  Then 
all  sat  down  at  the  tables,  and  stretching  forth  their 
hands,  they  partook  of  the  pleasant  food  so  bounteously 
spread  before  them.  And  though  some  of  the  princely 
suitors  had  been  beaten  in  the  games,  yet  all  were 
merry  and  hopeful,  and  many  a  pleasant  jest  was  bandied 
back  and  forth  among  them. 

"The  son  of  Oileus  should  remember,"  said  Nireus, 
"that  the  race  is  not  always  to  the  swift." 

"And  Nireus  should  remember,"  said  Thoas,  "that 
beauty  does  not  consort  with  comeliness.  Aphrodite 
did  not  choose  Apollo  for  her  husband,  but  rather  the 
limping  smith,  Hephaestus." 

Then  some  one  asked  Nireus  what  was  the  price  of 
hair-oils  in  Syma ;  and  this  led  to  much  merriment  and 
many  jokes  about  his  smooth  curls,  his  well-shaven  face, 
and  his  tight-fitting  doublet. 

"If  his  father  were  living,"  said  one,  "he  would  be 
setting  a  bride-price  upon  him." 

In  the  midst  of  the  merriment,  a  herald  passed 
through  the  hall,  crying  out,  "  Remember  your  oaths, 
O  princes  of  the  Hellenes  !  Remember  your  promises 
to  the  immortal  gods  !  " 

A  silence  fell  upon  that  multitude,  like  the  stillness 
which  takes  hold  upon  all  nature  when  waiting  for 
the  thunder-cloud  to  vent  its  fury  upon  the  plains.  And 
the  minstrel,  who  sat  upon  a  raised  seat  at  the  farther 


1 62  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

side  of  the  hall,  touched  his  harp  with  his  deft  fingers, 
and  brought  forth  sounds  so  sweet  and  low  and  musi- 
cal that  the  ears  of  all  the  hearers  were  entranced. 
Then  the  door  of  the  inner  chamber  opened,  and  the 
glorious  Helen,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  old  Tyndareus, 
came  forth  to  make  her  choice.  The  hearts  of  all  the 
suitors  stood  still ;  they  could  not  bear  to  look  toward 
her,  although  her  heavenly  beauty  was  modestly  hidden 
beneath  her  thick  veil.  She  came  into  the  hall :  she 
passed  Idomeneus,  who  sat  nearest  the  inner  chamber  ; 
she  passed  the  mighty  Ajax,  him  of  the  noble  form 
and  the  eagle  eye  ;  she  passed  the  doughty  Diomede, 
wielder  of  the  sword ;  she  passed  Philoctetes,  and 
Odysseus,  and  the  stout-limbed  son  of  Oileus.  The 
hearts  of  the  younger  suitors  on  the  hither  side  of  the 
hall  began  to  beat  with  high  hopes. 

"  She  surely  has  her  eyes  on  me  !  "  said  the  coxcomb 
Nireus,  speaking  to  himself. 

She  came  to  the  table  where  Menelaus,  the  brother 
of  Agamemnon,  sat.  She  paused  a  moment,  and  then 
she  held  out  her  lily-white  hand,  in  token  that  he  was 
the  husband  of  her  choice.  The  great  silence  was  at 
once  broken,  and  a  mighty  shout  went  up  to  the  high 
roof  of  the  palace.  Every  one  of  the  slighted  suitors 
felt  for  an  instant  the  keen  pang  of  disappointment ; 
then,  remembering  their  oaths,  all  joined  in  wishing  joy 
to  Menelaus  and  his  bride.  Some,  however,  chagrined 
and  crestfallen,  soon  withdrew  from  the  palace ;  and 
calling  their  servitors  about  them,  they  secretly  and  in 


A  Race  for  a   Wife.  163 

haste  departed  from  Lacedaemon.  When  the  morning 
dawned,  only  ten  of  the  young  princes  still  staid  in 
the  halls  of  old  Tyndareus. 

It  was  easy  to  understand  why  these  remained. 
Sweet-faced  Penelope  had  won  other  hearts  beside  that 
of  young  Odysseus.  "  Since  the  glorious  Helen  is  to 
be  the  bride  of  Menelaus,"  said  each  of  those  who 
tarried,  "  why  shall  not  her  fair  cousin  —  who  is  wor- 
thier if  not  so  beautiful  —  be  mine  to  wed  ?  " 

And  straightway  they  beset  Icarius  with  offers  of 
rich  gifts,  begging  him  to  set  a  bride-price  on  his  daugh- 
ter, and  bestow  her  upon  him  who  should  agree  most 
willingly  to  pay  it.  The  old  man  was  sorely  troubled, 
for  he  loved  his  daughter  dearly ;  and  he  could  not  bear 
the  thought  that  a  strange  prince  should  lead  her  into 
distant  lands  where,  perchance,  his  eyes  should  never 
more  behold  her. 

While  he  pondered  sadly,  sitting  alone  and  bewildered 
in  his  chamber,  he  heard  a  minstrel  singing  in  the  hall. 
He  listened.  It  was  a  song  about  Atalanta  the  fair 
huntress  of  Arcadia,  beginning  with  the  time  when 
Meleager  of  the  golden  hair  awarded  her  the  prize 
in  the  far-off  wood  of  Calydon. 

Then  the  minstrel  sang  of  the  maiden's  return  to 
Arcadia :  How  she  had  stopped  at  Delphi  on  her  way, 
and  had  asked  the  Pythia  in  Apollo's  temple  to  reveal 
the  secrets  of  her  future  life.  How  the  oracle  could 
tell  her  nothing  of  the  things  that  would  befall  her, 
but  only  gave  her  this  advice :   "  Keep  thyself   from 


164  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

wedlock's  chains  ! "  How,  when  she  came  again  to  her 
father's  palace,  she  found  him  beset  by  suitors  asking 
for  the  hand  of  his  fleet-footed  daughter.  Then  the 
maiden,  calling  to  mind  the  Pythia's  warning,  besought 
her  father  to  send  the  suitors  home,  and  let  her,  like 
Artemis,  live  unwedded ;  for  she  would  be  as  free  as 
the  winds  which  play  in  the  lovely  vales  of  Mantinea, 
or  beat  the  bleak  tops  of  Mount  Enispe.  But  old  Iasus 
was  a  crafty  man  —  an  unfeeling  father,  loving  gold 
more  than  his  daughter.  "  Behold,"  said  he,  "  the 
bride-price  that  is  offered.  Shall  I  refuse  so  great  gain, 
simply  to  please  thy  silly  whims  ? "  Then  Atalanta 
was  sorely  troubled,  and  she  prayed  Artemis,  the  hunt- 
ress-queen, to  send  her  help  in  the  time  of  her  great 
need.  And  Artemis  hearkened,  and  spoke  words  of 
comfort  to  her  heart ;  and  kind  Pallas  Athene"  gave  her 
wisdom. 

"  My  father,"  said  she  to  old  Iasus,  "  take  thou  the 
bride-price  that  any  suitor  may  offer  for  me — but  on 
these  conditions  :  that  he  shall  make  trial  with  me  in 
the  foot-race,  and  if  he  outrun  me,  then  I  will  go  with 
him  as  his  bride  ;  but  if  I  outstrip  him  in  the  race,  then 
he  is  to  lose  the  bride-price  offered,  and  his  life  is  to  be 
at  your  mercy." 

Crafty  Iasus  was  highly  pleased,  and  he  rubbed  his 
palms  together  with  delight ;  and  he  caused  the  her- 
alds to  proclaim  the  terms  on  which  the  matchless  Ata- 
lanta might  be  won.  Some  of  the  suitors  departed  in 
despair,  for  they  knew  that  no  mortal  man  was  so  fleet 


A  Race  for  a   Wife.  165 

of  foot  as  the  lovely  huntress  of  Arcadia.  But  many 
others,  less  wise,  put  themselves  in  training  for  the 
trial.  Then  one  by  one,  like  silly  moths  plunging  into 
the  candle's  flame,  they  went  down  to  the  race-course 
of  old  Iasus,  and  tried  their  speed  with  that  of  the 
wing-footed  damsel ;  but  all  failed  miserably,  and  none 
of  them  ever  returned  to  their  homes  or  their  loving 
friends.  And  Iasus  grew  rich  upon  the  spoils  —  the 
jewels,  and  the  bride-gifts,  and  the  arms — which  he 
thus  gained  from  the  luckless  lovers. 

One  day  Milanion,  a  youth  from  distant  Scandia,  came 
to  try  his  fortune.  "  Knowest  thou  the  terms  ?  "  asked 
Iasus. 

"I  know  them,"  was  the  answer,  "and  though  they 
were  thrice  as  hard,  yet  would  I  win  Atalanta." 

And  Atalanta,  when  she  saw  his  manly,  handsome 
face,  and  heard  his  pleasant  voice,  was  sad  to  think  that 
one  so  noble  and  so  brave  should  meet  so  hard  a  fate. 
But  Milanion  went  down  to  the  race-course  with  a  firm 
step  and  a  heart  full  of  hope.  For  he  had  prayed  to 
Aphrodite  that  she  would  kindly  aid  his  suit,  and  lend 
him  wings  to  reach  the  goal  in  advance  of  Atalanta; 
and  Aphrodite  had  listened  to  his  plea,  and  had  given 
him  three  golden  apples,  and  had  whispered  a  secret  in 
his  ear. 

The  signal  was  given,  and  youth  and  maiden  bounded 
from  the  lists  like  arrows  shot  from  a  bow.  But  the 
maiden  was  much  the  fleeter  of  the  two,  and  was  soon 
far  in  advance. 


1 66  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"Another  fool  will  soon  come  to  grief!"  said  Iasus, 
laughing  loudly. 

By  this  time  Atalanta  was  near  the  turning-post, 
while  Milanion,  straining  every  nerve,  was  many  yards 
behind.  Then  he  remembered  the  secret  which  Aph- 
rodite had  whispered,  and  he  threw  one  of  the  golden 
apples  far  beyond  the  post.  It  fell  upon  the  green 
lawn,  a  stone's-throw  outside  of  the  course.  The  quick 
eyes  of  Atalanta  marked  its  beauty,  and  she  ran  to  pick 
it  up.  And  while  she  was  seeking  it  among  the  grass, 
Milanion  passed  the  turning-post,  and  was  speeding 
swiftly  back  towards  the  goal.  It  was  only  a  moment, 
however,  until  Atalanta  swift  as  the  wind  overtook  him, 
and  was  again  far  in  the  lead.  Then  the  young  man 
threw  a  second  apple,  this  time  some  distance  to  the 
right  of  the  course.  The  maiden  followed,  catching  it 
almost  before  it  fell ;  but  Milanion  had  gained  a  hun 
dred  paces  on  her.  Ere  she  could  again  overtake  him, 
he  threw  his  third  apple  over  his  shoulder  and  to  the 
left  of  the  course.  Atalanta,  forgetting  in  her  eager- 
ness that  the  goal  was  so  near,  stopped  to  secure  this 
prize  also  ;  and  lo !  as  she  lifted  her  eyes,  Milanion 
had  reached  the  end  of  the  course.  Old  Iasus  stormed 
with  rage,  and  threatened  many  fearful  things.  But 
Milanion,  smiling,  came  boldly  forward  and  claimed  his 
bride  ;  and  she,  blushing  and  happy,  covered  her  face 
with  her  veil,  and  followed  him  willingly  to  the  home 
of  his  fathers,  in  distant  Cythera. 

Such  was  the  song  which  the  minstrel  sang,  and  to 


A  Race  for  a   Wife.  167 

which  Icarius  listened  while  sitting  in  his  chamber. 
Suddenly  a  new  thought  seemed  to  strike  him,  and  he 
bade  a  herald  call  before  him  all  the  suitors  of  sweet 
Penelope. 

"My  young  friends,"  he  said,  "you  have  asked  me 
for  my  daughter's  hand,  and  promised  me  a  liberal  bride- 
price.  I  need  none  of  your  gold,  nor  do  I  wish  to  give 
my  daughter  to  a  stranger  with  whom  she  would  be 
loath  to  go.  Hence  I  shall  do  after  this  manner :  He 
who  shall  win  in  a  foot-race  to-day,  on  the  long  course 
beyond  the  market-place,  shall  be  husband  of  Penelope, 
but  on  this  condition  :  that,  if  she  choose  to  go  with 
him,  then  he  is  to  have  her  without  the  payment  of  a 
price  ;  but  if  she  choose  to  stay  with  me,  then  he  shall 
pay  me  a  rich  dower,  and  straightway  depart  forever 
from  the  gates  of  Lacedaemon." 

The  suitors  heard  the  words  of  old  Icarius,  and  all 
assented.  Then  soon  the  people  were  gathered  again 
in  the  broad  market-place;  the  long  race-course  was 
cleared  and  put  in  order,  and  every  thing  was  made  ready 
for  the  trial.  The  trumpet  sounded,  and  the  young 
princes  came  forward  lightly  clad  for  the  race.  Pala- 
medes,  the  cousin  of  Menelaus,  fair  and  tall ;  and  Ajax 
Oileus,  who  had  won  the  race  on  the  preceding  day ; 
and  Megas,  brave  as  Mars,  from  far  Dulichium ;  and 
Thoas,  the  ^Etolian  prince ;  and  Phidippus,  the  grand- 
son of  great  Heracles ;  and  Protesilaus,  from  distant 
Thessaly  ;  and  Eumelus,  son  of  Admetus  and  the  divine 
Alcestis ;    and  Polypoetes,  descended  from  the  Lapith 


1 68  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

king  Peirithous  and  Hippodameia  the  daughter  of  the 
Centaurs  ;  and  Elphenor,  the  son  of  large-souled  Chal- 
codon,  ruler  of  Euboea  and  the  valorous  Abantes  ;  and 
lastly,  Odysseus,  who  had  shrewdly  planned  all  matters 
to  this  end.  Rarely  have  ten  men  so  noble  stood  up 
together  to  contend  for  honors  or  the  winner's  prize. 

The  word  was  given,  and  they  darted  forth,  at  once 
and  swiftly,  raising  a  cloud  of  dust  along  the  course. 
From  the  very  start,  they  strained  at  utmost  speed  ; 
they  reached  the  turning-post,  and  hurried  onward  to 
the  goal.  But  now  stout  Ajax  no  longer  took  the  lead ; 
for  Odysseus  ran  before  the  rest,  and  passed  the  goal, 
and  came  to  the  crowd  by  the  lists,  while  yet  the  others 
with  laboring  breath  were  speeding  down  the  course. 

Old  Icarius  was  pleased  with  the  issue  of  the  race. 
For  he  hoped  that  Penelope  would  not  consent  to  wed 
Odysseus  and  follow  him  to  distant  Ithaca ;  and,  if  so, 
he  would  be  happily  rid  of  all  the  troublesome  suitors. 

"  Come  here,  my  sweet  daughter,"  he  said.  "  This 
young  man,  a  stranger  from  a  far-off  land,  has  won  thee 
in  the  games  ;  yet  the  choice  is  thine.  Wilt  thou  leave 
thy  old  father,  lonely  and  alone  in  Lacedaeraon,  prefer* 
ring  to  share  the  fortunes  of  this  stranger  ?  Or  wilt 
thou  stay  with  me,  and  bid  him  seek  a  wife  among  the 
daughters  of  his  own  people  ?  " 

And  sweet  Penelope  covered  her  face  with  her  veil  to 
hide  her  blushes,  and  said,  "  He  is  my  husband ;  I  will 
go  with  him." 

Icarius  said  no  more.      But  on  that   spot   he  after 


A  Race  for  a    Wife.  1 69 

wards  raised  a  marble  statue  —  a  statue  of   Penelope 
veiling  her  blushes  —  and  he  dedicated  it  to  Modesty. 

Soon  afterward  Odysseus  returned  with  his  young 
wife  to  his  own  home  and  friends  in  sea-girt  Ithaca. 
And,  next  to  Penelope,  the  richest  treasure  that  he 
carried  thither  was  the  bow  of  Eurytus. 


ADVENTURE  XIV. 


HOW  A  GREAT   HERO   MET   HIS   MASTER. 

Now,  after  two  years  and  more  had  passed  in  peace, 
there  came  one  day  to  Ithaca  an  aged  wanderer  who 
had  many  things  of  great  import  to  tell.  For  he  had 
been  in  every  land  and  in  every  clime,  and  had  trod  the 
streets  of  every  city,  even  from  Pylos  to  Iolcos  by 
the  sea ;  and  he  knew  what  deeds  had  been  done  by  all 
the  heroes,  and  what  fortunes  or  misfortunes  had  be- 
fallen mankind  in  every  part  of  Hellas.  And  Odysseus 
and  the  elders  of  Ithaca  loved  to  sit  around  him  in  the 
banquet  chamber  of  Laertes,  and  listen  to  his  stories, 
of  which  there  was  no  end.  For  in  that  wonderful 
Golden  Age,  these  strollers  —  blind  bards  and  story- 
tellers—  were  the  people's  newspapers,  and  oftentimes 
the  only  means  by  which  those  of  one  country  could 
learn  aught  of  what  was  passing  in  another. 

"Alas !  the  world  is  no  longer  as  it  was  in  the  days 
of  my  youth,"  said  the  old  newsmonger,  one  morning, 
with  a  sigh.  "  The  heroes  are  all  passing  away.  In- 
deed, of  the  older  race,  I  can  now  remember  only  three 
who  are  still  living,  —  Peleus,  the  king  of  the  Myrmi- 
170 


How  a   Great  Hero  met  his  Master.      171 

dons ;  Nestor,  of  lordly  Pylos  ;  and  Laertes,  in  whose 
halls  we  are  sitting." 

"  You  forget  Cheiron,  the  wise  master,"  said  Odys- 
seus. 

"  By  no  means,"  was  the  answer.  "  It  is  now  seven 
years  since  Zeus  took  him  from  earth,  and  set  him 
among  the  stars.  Some  say  that  Heracles,  while  fight- 
ing with  unfriendly  Centaurs,  unwittingly  struck  the 
great  master  with  one  of  his  poisoned  arrows.  Others 
say  that  the  master,  while  looking  at  an  arrow,  care- 
lessly dropped  it  upon  his  own  foot,  thus  wounding 
himself  unto  death.  But  who  is  right,  I  cannot  tell. 
I  only  know  that  Cheiron  lives  no  longer  in  his  cave- 
hall  on  rugged  Pelion,  and  that  the  old  heroes  are  all 
fast  following  him  to  the  land  of  the  unknown." 

"  But  what  of  Neleus,  the  old  father  of  Nestor  ? 
And  what  of  my  dear  friend  Iphitus  of  CEchalia  ?  And 
what  of  great  Heracles  ?  Surely  the  race  of  heroes 
still  lives  in  them." 

"  Can  it  be  that  you  have  not  heard  the  sad  story  ? " 
asked  the  old  man.  "  Can  it  be  that  no  one  has  yet 
brought  to  you  the  strange  news,  over  which  all  Hellas 
has  been  weeping  ?  Two  harvests  now  have  passed 
since  the  noble  spirit  of  Iphitus  fled  down  the  dark 
ways,  —  it  may  be  to  the  gloomy  halls  of  Hades,  it  may 
be  to  the  dwelling-place  of  fair-haired  Rhadamanthus 
in  the  Islands  of  the  Blest.  And  old  Neleus  followed 
swiftly  in  his  footsteps,  his  feeble  life  snuffed  out  by 
the  mad  hand  of   Heracles.     Nor  did  great  Heracles 


172  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

himself  long  survive  the  evil  deed  and  the  wrath  of  the 
eternal  powers.  But  now  he  sits  enthroned  on  high 
Olympus,  and  walks  the  earth  no  more." 

"Pray  tell  us  how  it  all  came  about,"  said  King 
Laertes  anxiously. 

Then  the  old  news-monger,  prefacing  his  story  with  a 
sad,  wild  song,  told  how  the  greatest  hero  of  the  Golden 
Age  met  at  last  his  master,  even  Death,  the  master  of 
all  earth's  creatures.  And  this  was  the  story  that  he 
told:  — 

"  When  Heracles  fled  from  Calydon,  as  you  already 
know,  he  went  to  Trachis  in  Thessaly,  close  by  the 
springs  of  CEta ;  and  there  he  abode  a  long  time.  Yet 
his  mind  was  ill  at  rest,  and  dire  forebodings  filled  his 
soul;  for  cruel  Here  was  threatening  him  with  madness, 
such  as  had  once  before  darkened  his  life  and  driven 
him  to  deeds  too  terrible  to  think  upon.  And  so,  at 
length,  he  kissed  his  dear  wife  and  his  lovely  babes, 
and  went  forth  to  wander  once  more  in  loneliness  from 
land  to  land.  He  knew  that  he  would  not  return ; 
and,  unknown  to  Deianeira,  he  left  in  his  dwelling  a 
letter,  such  as  men  write  when  they  feel  that  the  end  is 
drawing  nigh.  In  it  he  told  how  the  doves  in  the  old 
oaks  of  Dodona  had  shown  him  that  within  the  space 
of  a  year  and  three  months  he  should  depart  from  this 
earth ;  and  then  he  gave  directions  how  his  goods 
should  be  given  to  his  children  and  his  friends,  and 
what  they  should  do  to  hold  his  memory  in  honor. 


How  a   Great  Hero  met  his  Master.      173 

"After  this  he  took  ship,  and  came  by  sea  to  his 
old  home  at  Tiryns,  where  erstwhile  he  had  served 
his  brother  and  task-master,  Eurystheus.  There  he 
sojourned  many  days  ;  and  there  he  met  Iphitus  of 
CEchalia,  his  friend  in  early  youth,  seeking  twelve 
horses  of  great  worth  and  beauty,  which  had  been 
stolen  from  him. 

"  '  Go  you  to  Pherae  in  Messene,'  said  Heracles,  his 
mind  even  then  verging  towards  madness.  '  It  may  be 
that  the  beasts  have  been  taken  by  the  lawless  men  of 
that  country,  for  they  live  by  robbery.  But  if  you  fail 
to  find  your  horses  there,  come  again  to  Tiryns,  and 
report  to  me ;  and  then  I  will  aid  you,  even  though  we 
should  have  to  seek  them  in  the  pasture  lands  of  old 
Autolycus  beneath  the  shadow  of  Parnassus.' 

"  So  Iphitus,  with  a  score  of  his  bravest  followers, 
went  down  into  Messene  and  Laconia,  and  even  to  the 
gates  of  Lacedasmon,  looking  for  his  horses.  But  he 
found  no  traces  of  the  beasts ;  and  in  time  he  came 
again  to  Tiryns,  as  the  great  hero  had  directed  him. 

"Sad,  however,  was  the  day  of  his  return,  for  the 
mind  of  Heracles  was  shrouded  in  deep  darkness. 
While  Iphitus  sat  as  a  guest  at  his  table,  the  mighty 
son  of  Zeus  arose  in  his  madness,  and  slew  him ;  and 
Heracles  cared  not  for  the  vengeance  of  the  gods,  nor 
for  the  honor  of  his  own  board.  Moreover,  the  goodly 
horses  of  Iphitus  were  even  then  feeding  in  his  stables 
at  Tiryns,  for  Heracles  himself  had  found  them. 

"But  after   this  the  light  began  to  struggle  feebly 


1 74  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

in  his  mind,  and  the  thought  of  his  crime  bore  heavily 
upon  him.  Then  he  remembered  old  Neleus,  the  most 
ancient  of  men,  and  knew  that  he  sat  in  the  market- 
place at  Pylos  dealing  out  justice  to  all  who  came  to 
him.  And  straightway  he  went  by  the  nearest  road 
to  Pylos,  and  besought  Neleus  the  venerable  to  purify 
him  for  the  evil  deed  that  he  had  done.  But  Iphitus 
and  his  father,  old  Eurytus,  had  been  very  dear  to 
Neleus,  —  comrades  and  friends,  indeed,  in  the  stirring 
days  of  their  youth. 

"  '  The  blood  of  good  Iphitus  be  upon  you,'  said  the 
old  man  to  Heracles ;  and  he  would  not  purify  him, 
neither  would  he  comfort  him  with  words  of  kindness. 

"  Then  madness  again  overpowered  the  great  hero, 
and  in  his  wrath  he  marched  through  Pylos  breathing 
slaughter.  And  he  slew  old  Neleus  in  the  market- 
place, and  put  his  sons  and  the  elders  of  Pylos  to 
the  sword,  sparing  only  the  knightly  Nestor,  most  dis- 
creet of  men.  But  the  fury  of  the  great  hero  was  not  to 
run  unchecked.  The  ever-living  powers  can  never  look 
with  favor  upon  that  man  who  slays  his  guest  in  his 
halls  or  who  deals  harshly  with  old  age.  And  so  they 
caused  Heracles  to  be  sold  to  Omphale,  queen  of 
Lydia,  to  serve  her  as  a  bond-slave  for  a  year  and  a  day. 
And  in  that  far-distant  land  he  toiled  at  many  a  thank- 
less task  until  the  days  of  his  bondage  were  ended 
Yet  the  great  cloud  was  only  a  little  way  lifted  from  his 
mind,  and  he  thought  to  himself  that  all  the  misery  that 
had  ever  been  his    had  come  upon  him    through   the 


How  a   Great  Hero  met  his  Master.      175 

house  of  Eurytus.  So  he  swore  with  a  great  oath, 
that,  when  he  had  gotten  his  freedom,  he  would  utterly 
destroy  CEchalia,  and  would  sell  all  its  people  into 
bondage.  For,  in  a  dazed,  unreasoning  way,  he  remem- 
bered fair  Iole,  and  the  slight  which  Eurytus  had  put 
upon  him  when  he  made  trial  of  his  skill  in  archery. 

"  Now,  when  he  was  set  free,  he  remembered  all  too 
well  the  vow  which  he  had  made ;  and  when  he  had 
overthrown  CEchalia,  and  had  taken  captive  all  the 
fair  women  and  children,  he  bethought  him  that  he 
would  go  again  to  Trachis  where  his  wife  and  children 
still  dwelt.  But  on  his  way  thither  he  stopped  for  a 
time  in  Eubcea  to  offer  sacrifice  to  Zeus  ;  and  he  sent 
his  herald  Lichas  on  before  him,  with  certain  of  the 
captives.  When  Lichas  came  to  Trachis,  and  made 
himself  known  to  Deianeira,  she  asked  him  what  word 
he  had  brought  from  Heracles  his  master. 

"'He  is  alive  and  well,'  said  the  herald,  'and  he 
tarries  for  a  while  in  Eubcea  to  build  an  altar  to  Zeus.' 

" '  Why  does  he  do  that  ? '  asked  Deianeira. 

"  '  He  does  it  to  fulfil  a  vow,'  answered  the  herald,  — 
'a  vow  which  he  made  ere  yet  he  had  overthrown 
CEchalia  and  had  led  captive  these  fair  women  whom 
thou  seest.' 

"  Then  Deianeira  drew  nearer,  and  looked  with  pity 
upon  the  captives  as  they  stood  in  sad  array  on  the 
shore  of  the  desolate  sea.  And  she  lifted  her  hands 
toward  heaven,  and  prayed  that  the  great  powers  would 
keep  her  from  such  a  fate  and  would  shield  her  children 


176  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

that  so  sad  an  evil  should  never  overtake  them.  Then 
she  saw  that  one  among  the  captives  was  much  more 
beautiful  than  the  others,  tall  and  very  fair,  with  long 
golden  tresses,  and  eyes  as  round  as  the  moon  and  as 
blue  as  the  deep  sea.  And  Deianeira,  wondering 
whether  she  were  not  some  great  man's  daughter, 
asked  her  who  she  was  ;  but  the  sad  captive  answered 
not  a  word.  The  tender  heart  of  the  queen  was  filled 
with  pity ;  and  she  bade  that  the  beautiful  lady  should 
be  taken  into  the  great  hall  of  Heracles,  and  treated 
with  the  utmost  kindness,  that  so  she  should  not  have 
sorrow  heaped  upon  sorrow.  Then  she  asked  Lichas 
to  tell  her  who  the  lady  was  ;  but  he  said  that  he  knew 
not,  save  that  she  seemed  to  be  well  born. 

"  But  now  when  Lichas  had  gone  to  the  tents  by  the 
shore,  there  came  to  Deianeira  in  the  palace  a  mischief- 
maker  who  told  her  that  Lichas  had  not  answered  truly 
in  this  matter. 

" '  He  knows,  as  well  as  I,  who  this  fair  stranger 
is,'  said  the  mischief-maker.  '  She  is  the  daughter  of 
King  Eurytus  of  CEchalia,  and  the  sister  of  Iphitus. 
Her  name  is  Iole  ;  and  it  was  for  the  sake  of  her 
beauty  that  Heracles  destroyed  her  father's  city.' 

"  Then  Deianeira  was  sadly  troubled  lest  the  heart 
of  the  great  hero  should  be  turned  away  from  her,  and 
his  affections  set  upon  this  lovely  captive.  So  she  sent 
again  for  Lichas,  and  questioned  him  still  further.  At 
first  he  denied  that  he  knew  any  thing  about  the  fair 
lady ;    but    afterwards,   when   hard    pressed,    he   said, 


DEIANEIRA  AND  THE   DYING  CENTAUR   NESSUS. 


How  a   Great  Hero  met  his  Master.     177 

'She  is  indeed  Iole,  the  fair  damsel  whom  Heracles 
loved  in  the  springtime  of  youth.  But  why  he  has 
brought  this  great  grief  upon  her,  and  upon  her 
father's  house,  I  cannot  tell' 

"  Sorely  troubled  now  was  Deianeira,  and  all  day  long 
she  sat  in  her  chamber,  and  pondered  what  she  should 
do.  And  when  the  evening  was  come,  she  called  her 
friends  together,  the  women  and  maidens  who  dwelt 
in  Trachis,  and  talked  with  them. 

"  •  I  have  been  thinking  of  what  I  can  do  to  keep 
my  husband's  love,'  she  said.  '  I  had  almost  forgotten 
that  I  have  a  charm  which  will  help  me,  or  I  might  not 
have  been  so  sadly  troubled.  Years  and  years  ago, 
when  we  were  fleeing  from  my  dear  old  home  at  Caly- 
don,  we  came  to  the  river  Evenus.  The  water  was 
very  deep,  and  the  current  very  swift ;  but  there  lived 
on  the  banks  of  the  stream  an  old  Centaur,  named 
Nessus,  whose  business  it  was  to  ferry  travellers  across 
to  the  other  shore.  He  first  took  my  husband  safely 
over,  and  then  myself  and  our  little  son  Hyllus.  But 
he  was  so  rude,  and  withal  so  savage  in  his  manners, 
that  Heracles  was  greatly  angered  at  him ;  and  he 
drew  his  bow,  and  shot  the  brutish  fellow  with  one  of 
his  poisoned  arrows.  Then  my  woman's  heart  was 
filled  with  pity  for  the  dying  Centaur,  wicked  though 
he  was ;  and  I  felt  loath  to  leave  him  suffering  alone 
upon  the  banks  of  Evenus.  And  he,  seeing  me  look 
back,  beckoned  me  to  him.  "  Woman,"  he  said,  "  I  am 
dying ;   but   first    I  would  give   thee  a   precious  gift. 


178  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

Fill  a  vial  with  the  blood  that  flows  from  this  wound, 
and  it  shall  come  to  pass  that  if  ever  thy  husband's 
affections  grow  cold,  it  will  serve  as  a  charm  to  make 
him  love  thee  as  before.  It  needs  only  that  thou 
shouldst  smear  the  blood  upon  a  garment,  and  then 
cause  him  to  wear  the  garment  so  that  the  heat  of  the 
sun  or  of  a  fire  shall  strike  upon  it."  I  quickly  filled 
the  vial,  as  he  directed,  and  hastened  to  follow  my 
husband.' 

"  Then  Deianeira  called  the  herald  Lichas,  and  said, 
'  Behold,  here  is  a  fair  white  garment  which  I  have 
woven  with  my  own  hands  ;  and  I  vowed  many  days 
ago,  that,  if  my  husband  should  again  come  home,  I 
would  give  him  this  garment  to  wear  while  offering 
sacrifice.  Now  he  tarries,  as  you  say,  to  do  homage  to 
the  gods  in  Euboea.  Go  back,  therefore,  to  meet  him, 
and  give  him  this  white  robe  as  a  gift  from  his  wife. 
Say  to  him  that  on  no  account  shall  he  let  another 
wear  it ;  and  that  he  shall  keep  it  carefully  folded  up, 
away  from  the  light  and  the  heat,  until  he  shall  be 
ready  to  clothe  himself  in  it.' 

"The  herald  promised  to  do  as  he  was  bidden  ;  and  in 
that  same  hour  he  hastened  back  to  meet  his  master 
in  Eubcea,  taking  with  him  his  master's  young  son 
Hyllus. 

"Not  many  days  after  this,  a  great  cry  and  sad 
bewailings  were  heard  in  the  house  of  Heracles ;  and 
Deianeira  rushed  forth  from  her  chamber  crying  aloud 
that    she    had    done    some    terrible    deed.      '  For    I 


How  a   Great  Hero  met  his  Master.      179 

anointed  the  fair  robe  which  I  sent  to  my  husband 
with  the  blood  of  Nessus  the  Centaur;  and  now, 
behold,  the  bit  of  woollen  cloth  which  I  dipped  into  the 
charm,  and  used  as  a  brush  in  spreading  it  upon  the 
robe,  is  turned  to  dust,  as  if  a  fire  had  burned  it 
up.  I  have  not  forgotten  any  thing  that  the  Centaur 
told  me :  how  I  was  to  keep  the  charm  where  neither 
the  light  of  the  sun  nor  the  heat  of  the  fire  could 
touch  it.  And  this  I  have  done  until  now ;  only  the 
bit  of  woollen  cloth  was  left  lying  in  the  sunshine. 
Oh,  fearful  am  I  that  I  have  slain  my  husband !  For 
why  should  the  Centaur  wish  to  do  well  by  the  man 
who  brought  death  upon  him  ? ' 

"  Hardly  had  she  spoken  these  words  when  her  son 
Hyllus  came  in  great  haste  to  the  palace,  even  into  the 
woman's  hall  where  she  stood. 

" '  O  my  mother  ! '  he  cried.  '  Would  that  you  were 
not  my  mother !  For  do  you  know  that  you  have  this 
day  brought  death  and  destruction  upon  my  father.' 

" '  Oh,  say  not  so,  my  son,'  wailed  Deianeira.  '  It 
cannot  be  ! ' 

" '  But  truly  it  is  so,'  said  Hyllus.  '  For  when 
Lichas  and  myself  came  to  Euboea  bearing  the  white 
robe  which  you  sent,  we  found  my  father  ready  to 
begin  his  offering  of  sacrifices.  And  he  was  glad 
to  see  me  and  to  hear  from  you ;  and  he  took  the  beau- 
tiful robe  and  put  it  upon  him.  Then  he  slew  twelve 
fair  oxen,  and  joyfully  worshipped  the  ever-living 
powers.     But  when  the  fire  grew  hot,  the  deadly  robe 


180  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

began  to  cling  to  him,  and  pangs,  as  if  caused  by  the 
stings  of  serpents,  shot  through  him,  and  the  pains  ol 
death  seized  on  him.  He  asked  Lichas  why  he  had 
brought  that  robe ;  and  when  the  herald  told  him 
that  it  was  your  gift,  he  seized  the  wretch,  and  cast 
him  over  the  cliff  upon  the  sharp  rocks  beneath. 
And  great  fear  filled  the  hearts  of  all  who  saw  the 
sufferings  of  the  mighty  hero ;  and  none  of  them 
dared  come  near  him,  so  terrible  were  his  struggles. 
Then  he  called  to  me,  and  said,  "  Come  here,  my  son. 
Do  not  flee  from  your  father  in  his  great  distress  ;  but 
carry  me  from  this  land,  and  set  me  where  the  eyes  of 
no  man  shall  see  me."  And  so  we  put  him  in  the  hold 
of  our  good  ship,  and  brought  him  home  with  us  to 
Trachis.  And  soon  you  shall  see  what  you  have  done ; 
for  you  have  slain  your  husband, — a  hero  the  like  of 
whom  the  world  shall  never  see  again.' 

"When  Deianeira  heard  these  words  she  made  no 
answer,  but,  with  one  despairing  cry,  she  hasted  to 
her  high-built  chamber ;  and  when,  soon  afterward,  her 
maidens  sought  her  there,  she  was  dead.  Then  Hyllus 
came,  also  seeking  her ;  for  the  women  of  the  house- 
hold had  told  him  how  she  had  been  deceived  by  the 
dying  Centaur.  And  when  he  saw  her  lifeless  form,  he 
wept  bitterly,  and  cried  out  that  now  indeed  the  Fates 
had  bereft  him  of  both  father  and  mother  on  the  same 
day. 

"  Then  they  brought  Heracles  into  his  own  broad 
hall,  bearing  him  upon  a  litter.     He  was  asleep  ;  for  the 


How  a   Great  Hero  met  his  Master.      181 

pain  had  left  him  a  little  while,  and  tired  Nature  was 
taking  her  dues.  But  the  sad  wailings  of  his  son  awoke 
him ;  and  again  he  cried  aloud  in  his  agony,  and  be- 
sought those  who  stood  around  him  that  they  would 
give  him  a  sword  wherewith  to  end  his  pain.  Then 
Hyllus  came  into  the  hall,  and  told  his  father  all  about 
the  terrible  mistake  which  his  mother  had  made,  and 
how  the  Centaur  had  deceived  her,  and  how  she  was  at 
that  moment  lying  dead,  with  a  broken  heart,  in  the 
chamber  overhead. 

"'Then,  indeed,  is  my  doom  come,'  cried  Heracles. 
'  For  long  ago  the  oracles  spake  of  me,  that  I  should 
die,  not  by  the  hands  of  any  living  being,  but  by  the 
guile  of  one  dwelling  in  the  regions  of  the  dead.  So 
now  Nessus,  whom  I  slew  so  long  ago,  is  avenged ;  for 
he  has  slain  me.  Now,  my  son,  carry  me  to  the  wooded 
summit  of  the  hill  of  CEta,  and  build  there  a  great  pile 
of  olive  beams  and  of  oak ;  and,  when  it  is  finished,  lay 
me  upon  it,  and  set  fire  unto  it.  And  shed  no  tear, 
neither  utter  any  cry,  but  work  in  silence ;  for  thus 
thou  shalt  prove  thyself  a  son  of  Heracles.' 

"  The  boy  promised  to  do  all  this  as  his  father  wished, 
only  he  would  not  set  fire  to  the  pile.  So  when  he  had 
built  the  pile,  and  had  put  between  the  beams  great 
stores  of  spices  and  sweet-smelling  herbs,  they  laid 
Heracles  upon  it ;  and  Philoctetes,  the  hero's  armor- 
bearer,  set  fire  to  the  pile.  And  Heracles,  for  this 
kindness,  gave  to  Philoctetes  his  famous  bow,  —  a 
weapon  more  marvellous  even  than  the  bow  of  Eurytus. 


1 82  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

Then  the  red  flames  shot  high  towards  heaven,  shed- 
ding brightness  over  land  and  sea ;  and  the  mighty 
hero  was  at  rest.     He  had  met  his  master." 

Such   was  the  story  that   the  old  news-monger  told 
in  the  hall  of  King  Laertes. 


ADVENTURE  XV. 


LONG   LIVE   THE   KING! 

"Surely,"  sighed  Laertes,  "the  old  heroes  pass 
away  ;  but  the  younger  heroes  press  hard  in  their  foot- 
steps, and  will  fill  their  places  well.  The  gods  have 
written  it  in  every  tree,  and  upon  every  blade  of  grass, 
that  the  aged,  however  worthy,  cannot  endure  forever. 
The  ripened  fruit  falls  to  the  ground,  but  there  will  bfe 
other  and  better  fruit  on  the  branches  by  and  by.  An- 
cient Cronos  gave  place,  not  willingly,  to  Zeus  ;  and 
Zeus  is  by  far  the  greater  of  the  two.  And  there  be 
certain  oracles  which  have  foretold  the  doom  of  Zeus ; 
even  that  he  shall  be  hurled  from  his  throne  by  a  king 
of  peace,  who  shall  reign  everlastingly." 

Then  on  a  day,  he  called  the  elders  of  Ithaca 
together,  and  spoke  to  them  in  this  wise :  "  My  son 
Odysseus  is  now  a  grown-up  man,  wise  and  shrewd 
beyond  any  other  among  you.  He  is  skilled  in  all  kinds 
of  knowledge  and  of  handicraft  ;  in  matters  of  judg- 
ment he  is  without  a  peer,  and  in  matters  requiring 
courage  he  is  foremost  among  men.  Moreover,  he  is 
married  to  a  wife,  sweet  Penelope,  unexcelled  in  f/itely 

«»3 


1 84  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

virtues;  and  he  has  a  son  and  heir,  Telemachus, — a 
smiling  babe  who  has  not  yet  seen  the  round  of  one  full 
moon.  Now,  why  should  the  old  branch  stand  longer 
in  the  way  of  the  new  and  vigorous  shoot  ?  This  day 
I  will  give  up  my  kingdom  to  my  son,  and  he  shall 
henceforth  rule  this  island  in  his  own  name." 

And  all  the  people  rejoiced  when  they  heard  his 
words  ;  and  straightway  they  hailed  Odysseus  king  of 
Ithaca,  and  offered  thanksgiving  and  sacrifice  to  Pallas 
Athene,  who  had  blessed  him  with  wisdom  above 
that  of  other  men.  And  good  Laertes  retired  to  his 
mountain  farm,  where  no  vexing  questions  of  govern- 
ment would  take  him  away  from  his  vines  and  fruit- 
trees.  "  Here,"  said  he,  "  I  hope  to  end  my  days  in 
peace." 

When  the  men  of  Cephallenia  and  the  dwellers  in 
the  rugged  island  of  Zacynthus  heard  that  young 
Odysseus  ruled  by  his  own  right  in  Ithaca,  they  came 
and  offered  him  their  friendship  and  allegiance ;  for 
they  were  kinsmen  of  the  Ithacans.  They  brought 
rich  presents  of  corn  and  wine  and  of  long-wooled 
sheep,  and  promised  to  bear  him  aid  in  time  of  need, 
if  ever  that  time  should  come. 

At  about  this  time,  old  Icarius,  the  father  of  Penel- 
ope, came  to  Ithaca  for  a  brief  visit  to  his  daughter. 
For  his  eyes  had  long  yearned  to  see  her,  and  he  could 
find  no  rest  until  he  knew  that  she  was  happy  and  well 
cared  for  in  the  new  home  which  she  had  chosen. 
And  Penelope  asked  him  a  thousand  questions  about 


Long  Live  the  King!  185 

her  friends  and  her  kinsfolk  in  dear  old  Lacedaemon, 
and  to  all  these  questions  he  made  answer  as  he  best 
knew. 

"We  have  now  a  new  king  at  Lacedaemon,"  said 
Icarius,  "even  brave  Menelaus,  the  husband  of  your 
cousin  Helen." 

"But  where  is  King  Tyndareus,  my  good  uncle?" 
asked  Penelope.  "And  where  are  my  noble  twin 
cousins,  Castor  and  Polydeuces  ?  Do  they  share  the 
kingdom  with  Menelaus  ? " 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it,"  answered  her  father. 
And  then  he  told  her  how  it  had  come  about  that 
Menelaus  was  called  to  the  kingship  of  Lacedaemon  :  — 

"  As  the  feebleness  of  age  began  to  take  hold  upon 
him,  King  Tyndareus  bethought  him  that  he  would 
resign  his  kingdom  to  his  sons,  the  twin  heroes  Castor 
and  Polydeuces.  But  the  restless  youths  cared  not  to 
take  upon  them  duties  which  would  keep  them  within 
the  narrow  bounds  of  Lacedaemon  ;  for  they  were  not 
home-stayers,  but  they  wandered  hither  and  thither  over 
many  seas  and  through  strange  lands,  doing  brave  and 
noble  deeds  innumerable.  The  story  of  their  labors  in 
times  of  peace  and  of  their  prowess  in  times  of  war 
was  upon  every  tongue,  and  was  sung  by  minstrels 
in  every  city  of  Hellas.  Wherever  public  games  were 
held,  there  the  twins  were  the  masters  of  the  course 
and  the  field,  and  the  awarders  of  the  prizes.  Wher- 
ever battles  raged  and  where  the  fight  was  thickest, 


1 86  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

there  the  glorious  heroes,  on  their  snow-white  steeds, 
were  seen  striking  fearlessly  for  the  cause  of  right. 
And  men  told  how  it  was  they  who  first  taught  the 
bards  to  sing  songs  of  battle  and  paeans  of  victory ;  and 
how  it  was  they  who  first  showed  the  glad  feet  of  the 
victors  how  to  tread  the  wild  mazes  of  the  war-dance ; 
and  how  it  was  they  who,  in  their  friendship  for  sea- 
farers, had  guided  many  a  vessel  over  the  roughest  seas, 
safe  into  the  wished-for  haven.  They  belonged  not 
more  to  their  native  Lacedasmon  than  to  the  whole 
wide  world. 

"There  came  a  time,  however,  when  the  men  of 
Laconia  quarrelled  with  their  neighbors  of  Arcadia, 
and  there  was  war  upon  the  borders.  Then  Castor 
and  Polydeuces  hastened  to  take  sides  with  their  kins- 
men. Mounted  on  their  swift  steeds,  Phlogios  and 
Harpagos,  the  gifts  of  Hermes,  they  made  raid  after 
raid  across  the  mountains ;  and  they  brought  back 
many  a  choice  herd  of  cattle,  or  flock  of  sheep,  from 
the  pasture  lands  of  Arcadia. 

"  It  happened  on  a  day,  that  their  cousins  Idas  and 
Lynceus,  two  lawless  men  from  Messene,  joined  them, 
and  the  four  drove  many  cattle  across  the  borders,  and 
hid  them  in  a  glen  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Taygetus. 
Then  they  agreed  that  Idas  should  divide  the  booty 
into  four  parts,  and  give  to  each  a  part.  But  Idas  was 
a  crafty  man,  more  famed  for  his  guile  than  for  his 
courage ;  and  he  planned  how  he  might  take  all  the 
herd  for  his  own.     So  he  killed  a  fat  ox,  and  having 


Long  Live  the  King!  187 


flayed  and  dressed  it,  he  cut  it  into  four  parts.  Then 
he  called  the  other  men  about  him. 

" '  It  would  be  a  great  pity  to  divide  so  fine  a  herd  as 
this  of  ours  among  four  owners,'  he  said.  'Therefore 
I  have  a  plan  by  which  one,  or  at  most  two  of  us,  may 
fairly  gain  the  whole.  Behold,  here  are  the  four  quar- 
ters of  the  ox  which  I  have  slain.  This  quarter  belongs 
to  Castor,  this  to  Polydeuces,  this  to  Lynceus,  and  this 
to  myself.  He  who  first  eats  the  share  allotted  to  him 
shall  have  half  of  the  cattle  for  his  own  ;  he  who  next 
finishes  shall  have  the  other  half.' 

"Then,  without  another  word,  he  began  to  eat  the 
quarter  which  he  had  allotted  to  himself ;  nor  was  he 
long  devouring  it,  but  with  greedy  haste  consumed  it 
before  his  comrades  had  tasted  even  a  morsel.  Next 
he  seized  upon  the  part  assigned  to  Lynceus,  and  ate  it 
as  quickly  as  his  own. 

"  '  The  cattle  are  all  mine  ! '  he  cried.  And  calling 
upon  his  brother  to  help  him,  they  drove  the  whole  herd 
into  Messene. 

"  Then  anger  filled  the  souls  of  the  twin  heroes,  and 
they  vowed  to  take  vengeance  upon  their  crafty  kins- 
men. One  night  when  the  moon  lighted  up  both  plain 
and  mountain  with  her  silvery  beams,  they  made  a  rapid 
ride  into  Messene,  and  brought  back  not  only  the  herd 
which  Idas  had  taken  from  them  by  fraud,  but  as  many 
cattle  as  were  feeding  in  the  Messenian  meadows. 
Then,  knowing  that  their  cousins  would  follow  them 
in    hot    haste,    they    hid    themselves    in    the    hollow 


1 88  A  Siory  of  the  Golden  Age. 

of  a  tree  in  the  mountain  pass,  and  waited  for  the 
morning. 

"At  break  of  day,  the  two  Messenians,  having  missed 
their  cattle,  hastened  to  follow  their  trail  to  Mount 
Taygetus.  Then  Lynceus,  whose  sharp  eyes  could  see 
through  rocks  and  the  trunks  of  trees,  climbed  to  the 
top  of  a  crag  to  look  about  them  ;  for  they  feared  lest 
they  should  fall  into  an  ambush.  And  as  he  peered 
into  every  nook  and  glen  and  gorge  of  the  wild  moun- 
tain, he  saw  the  twins  close-hidden  in  the  hollow 
trunk  of  an  oak.  Then  quickly  he  descended,  and  with 
stealthy  tread  he  and  Idas  drew  near  their  hiding-place. 
Castor  saw  them  first ;  but  before  he  could  speak,  a 
spear  from  the  hand  of  Idas  laid  him  low  in  death. 
Then  mighty  Polydeuces  leaped  forth  in  his  wrath,  and 
rushed  upon  the  slayers  of  his  brother.  Fear  seized 
upon  them,  and  they  fled  with  winged  feet  into  Mes- 
sene,  and  paused  not  until  they  stood  by  the  marble 
tomb  of  their  father,  great  Aphareus.  But  Polydeuces, 
following  on,  overtook  them  there,  and  with  his  spear 
he  smote  Lynceus  a  deadly  blow.  At  the  same  time,  a 
peal  of  thunder  shook  the  mountain  and  rolled  over  the 
plain ;  and  Zeus  hurled  his  fiery  bolts  at  the  bosom  of 
crafty  Idas,  and  laid  him  dead  upon  his  father's  tomb. 

"  The  grief  of  Polydeuces  for  the  death  of  Castor  was 
terrible  to  see  ;  and  there  was  no  one  in  all  the  world 
who  could  comfort  him,  or  in  any  way  make  him  forget 
his  loss.  Then  he  prayed  the  gods  that  they  would 
take  him,  too,  to  Hades,  that  he  might  be  in  the  dear 


Long  Live  the  King!  189 

company  of  his  brother.  And  Zeus  heard  his  prayer ; 
and  he  asked  Polydeuces  to  choose  whether  he  would 
sit  in  the  courts  of  Olympus,  and  be  the  peer  of  Ares 
and  Pallas  Athene,  or  whether  he  would  share  all  things 
with  Castor.  And  the  glorious  hero  cried,  '  Let  me 
be  forever  with  my  brother  ! '  His  wish  was  granted 
to  him ;  and  the  twin  heroes  still  live,  although  the 
quickening  earth  lies  over  them.  One  day  they  wander 
in  the  fields  of  asphodel,  and  enjoy  the  bliss  of  immor- 
tality ;  the  next,  they  flit  among  the  unquiet  shades  in 
the  sunless  regions  of  the  dead.  And  thus  they  share 
together  whatever  of  joy  or  woe  the  grave  can  bring. 

"  When  King  Tyndareus  learned  that  he  was  bereft 
of  his  sons,  he  fell  prone  to  the  earth ;  and  no  one  in 
Lacedaemon  could  console  him.  '  Send  for  Helen,  my 
peerless  daughter ! '  he  cried.  '  Send  for  Menelaus. 
He  is  my  only  son.  He  shall  dwell  in  my  palace,  and 
rule  in  my  stead  ! ' 

"  And  that  is  the  way  in  which  it  came  about,  that 
Menelaus  was  called  to  the  kingship  of  Lacedaemon." 

Old  Icarius  remained  but  a  short  time  at  Ithaca.  A 
ship  was  waiting  in  the  harbor,  ready  to  sail  to  Pylos 
and  the  ports  beyond;  and  he  knew  that  a  like  oppor- 
tunity to  return  to  Lacedaemon  might  not  soon  be 
offered.  And  so,  leaving  his  blessing  with  his  children 
Odysseus  and  Penelope  and  the  babe  Telemachus,  he 
departed. 


ADVENTURE  XVI. 


THE   CHILDREN   OF   PROMETHEUS. 

There  was  sore  distress  in  Lacedasmon.  Famine 
and  a  deadly  pestilence  grieved  the  land,  and  in  ever} 
household  the  notes  of  wailing  and  despair  were  heard. 
For  Apollo,  vexed  because  the  men  of  Laconia  were  so 
slow  to  understand  his  wishes,  was  shooting  his  fateful 
arrows  broadcast  among  them.  Like  a  night-cloud  he 
brooded  over  the  land,  and  strong  men  and  fair  women 
and  helpless  babes  all  fell  alike  beneath  the  sharp  blows 
of  his  deadly  shafts.  And  the  heart  of  Menelaus  the 
king  was  burdened  with  grief  because  of  the  people's 
sore  affliction.  Then,  when  he  found  that  sacrifice  of 
lambs  and  goats  availed  him  nothing,  he  sent  in  haste 
to  ask  the  oracles  the  cause  of  Apollo's  wrath,  and  to 
learn  what  could  be  done  to  stay  the  plague.  The 
answer  came  as  quickly  :  — 

"When  the  bones  of   the  children   of   Prometheus 

are  brought  from  Ilios,  and  entombed  in  Lacedaemon, 

then  the  wrath  of  silver-bowed  Apollo  shall  be  turned 

aside,   and   the   smiles   of    his   favor   shall    bless    the 

land." 

190 


The  Children  of  Prometheus.  191 


Then  Menelaus  made  ready  to  depart  at  once  to  Troy 
to  do  that  which  Apollo  demanded.  A  short  journey 
by  land  brought  him  to  the  strong-built  town  of  Helos 
on  the  shore  of  the  eastern  sea.  There  a  swift-sailing 
ship  lay  at  its  moorings,  while  a  score  of  long-haired 
seamen  paced  the  beach,  anxious  to  embark  upon  any 
errand  across  Poseidon's  watery  kingdom.  The  captain 
hailed  the  king  with  joy,  and  the  ship  was  soon  made 
ready  for  the  long  voyage  to  Ilios.  A  plenteous  stock 
of  food  was  stored  away  in  the  broad  hold ;  arms,  for 
defence  against  sea  robbers  and  savage  men,  were  put 
in  order,  and  hung  in  their  places ;  and  rich  presents 
for  Priam,  king  of  Troy,  were  taken  on  board. 

The  next  day  a  favoring  wind  sprang  up ;  the  sails 
were  set ;  the  seamen  took  their  places ;  and  the  ship 
with  King  Menelaus  on  board  sped  on  its  way  to  dis- 
tant Ilios.  Poseidon,  looking  out  from  his  golden 
palace  beneath  the  sea,  saw  the  vessel  as  it  hastened 
on  its  errand ;  and  he  bade  the  waves  be  still  and  in 
no  wise  hinder  its  speed,  for  Apollo's  business  must  not 
be  delayed ;  and  he  called  upon  the  breezes  to  blow 
steadily  towards  Ilios,  that  so  the  embassy  of  Menelaus 
might  be  happily  performed. 

"Surely  the  gods  are  all  in  league  with  us,"  said  the 
captain  of  the  ship  one  day,  pleased  with  the  delightful 
voyage.  "  To-morrow  we  shall  doubtless  sight  the  Les- 
bian coast,  and  from  thence  it  is  but  a  short  sail  to  Ilios 
and  Troy.  And  now,  as  we  sit  together  in  the  prow  of 
our  good  vessel,  I  pray  you  to  tell  us  the  story,  once 


192  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

more,  of  great  Prometheus,  the  bones  of  whose  children 
seem  so  precious  to  Apollo." 

And  Menelaus  willingly  consented,  and  told  the  story 
as  he  himself  had  oft-times  heard  it  from  the  bards :  — 

"When  Zeus  waged  pitiless  war  upon  the  Titans,  and 
hurled  them  headlong  from  the  heights  of  Mount  Olym- 
pus, he  spared  from  the  general  ruin  those  who  fought 
not  with  their  own  kindred,  but  espoused  his  cause. 
Among  these  and  foremost  of  all  was  great  Prometheus, 
whose  name  is  Forethought,  and  whose  chiefest  glory 
lies  in  this,  that  he  was  the  friend  and  lover  of  man- 
kind. It  was  the  hope  of  bettering  man's  condition 
that  led  him  to  fight  against  his  kindred,  and  to  aid  in 
placing  Zeus  upon  the  throne  of  ancient  Cronos.  Yet 
Zeus  cared  naught  for  the  feeble  children  of  earth,  but 
sought  rather  to  make  their  burdens  heavier  and  their 
lives  more  sad,  that  so  the  race  might  perish  utterly. 
And  the  great  mind  of  Prometheus  set  to  work  to 
learn  how  to  make  their  lot  less  sad  and  their  lives  less 
miserable. 

"  He  saw  that  as  yet  they  dwelt  without  forethought 
upon  the  earth,  their  life's  whole  length  being  aimless, 
and  their  minds  as  void  of  reason  as  is  the  beast's. 
They  lived  in  sunless  caverns,  or  in  holes  scooped  in 
the  ground  ;  and  no  provision  did  they  make  for  heat  or 
cold  or  times  of  scarcity,  or  the  varying  needs  of  youth 
and  age.  And  Prometheus  wasted  no  vain  words  in 
pity,  but  took  at  once  upon  him  the  Titanic  task  of  lift- 


The   Children  of  Prometheus.  193 

ing  the  race  up  to  a  level  with  the  gods.  First,  he 
taught  them  the  use  of  fire,  which,  some  say,  he  stole 
from  Helios'  car,  and  brought  to  the  earth,  hidden  in  a 
fennel-stalk.  Then  he  showed  them  how  the  stars  rise 
and  set,  and  how  the  seasons  change  in  never-varying 
order.  He  showed  them  how  to  yoke  and  make  sub- 
missive to  their  will  the  wild  steeds  of  the  desert  plain ; 
how  to  turn  the  sod  beneath  the  soil  by  means  of  the 
furrowing  plough  ;  and  how  to  build  fair  houses  and 
cities  with  strong  walls  and  frowning  towers.  He 
taught  them  how  to  make  ships,  the  storm-winged  char- 
iots of  the  sea,  and  how  to  navigate  the  briny  deep. 
He  showed  them  the  treasures  which  lie  hidden  under- 
neath the  ground,  —  gold,  silver,  iron,  —  and  taught 
them  how  to  turn  them  into  forms  of  beauty,  strength, 
and  use.  In  short,  all  arts  now  known  to  men  came  to 
them  from  the  hands  and  mind  of  pitying  Prometheus. 

"  Now,  when  Zeus  looked  down  from  high  Olympus, 
and  saw  the  puny  tribes  of  men  no  longer  grovelling  in 
the  earth  like  senseless  beasts,  but  standing  upright, 
and  claiming  kinship  with  the  gods,  he  shook  with  pent- 
up  anger.  And  he  called  two  of  his  mightiest  servants, 
Strength  and  Force,  whom  none  can  resist,  and  bade 
them  seize  the  friend  of  man,  and  bind  him  upon  a  peak 
of  the  snow-crowned  Caucasus,  there  to  linger  through 
the  ages  in  loneliness  and  pain. 

"  Then  the  ruthless  slaves  of  Zeus  went  forth  to  do 
his  bidding.  They  seized  the  mighty  Titan,  and  dragged 
\im  to  the  bleak  and  barren  regions  of  the  Caucasus, 


1 94  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

beyond  the  utmost  limit  of  the  habitable  earth.  And 
with  them  went  the  mighty  smith  Hephaestus,  all  un- 
willingly, to  bind  the  great  victim  with  bonds  of  brass, 
which  none  could  loose,  to  the  lonely  mountain  crags. 

"  'This  thing  I  do  loathing,'  said  Hephaestus.  '  Here 
I  must  perforce  leave  thee,  chained  and  bolted  to  the 
immovable  rocks.  Thou  shalt  never  behold  the  face  of 
man,  nor  hear  the  accents  of  his  voice ;  but  the  blaze 
of  the  unpitying  sun  shall  scorch  thy  fair  skin,  and 
thou  shalt  long  for  the  night  with  its  shimmering  stars 
to  cast  a  veil  of  coolness  over  thee.  Year  after  year, 
thou  shalt  keep  thy  lonely  watch  in  this  joyless  place, 
unblest  with  sleep,  and  uttering  many  a  cry  and  un- 
availing moan.  For  Zeus  is  pitiless.  This  is  what 
thou  gainest  for  befriending  man.' 

"  There,  then,  they  left  him  fettered ;  but  not  until 
rude  Strength  had  taunted  him  :  '  Lo,  thou  lover  of 
mankind !  Call  now  the  puny  race  of  mortals  round 
thee,  and  crown  them  with  honors  !  Could  all  of  them 
together  lessen  thy  punishment  in  the  least  ?  Surely 
the  gods  did  jest  when  they  gave  thee  the  name  of 
"  Forethought,"  for  thou  hast  need  of  forethought  to 
free  thee  from  these  bonds.' 

"Then,  when  the  solitary  sufferer  knew  that  there 
was  no  one  to  hear  him,  save  only  the  sun,  and  the 
earth  and  the  winds,  and  the  winding  river  and  the  dis* 
tant  sea,  he  broke  forth  in  grievous  cries  and  lamen- 
tations :  — 

" '  O  pitying  sky,  and  swift -winged  winds,  and  river- 


The  Children  of  Prometheus.  195 

springs,  and  the  many-twinkling  smile  of  ocean,  I  cry 
to  you !  O  mother  Earth,  and  thou  all-seeing  Sun  ! 
behold  what  I  endure  because  I  gave  honor  to  mortals ! 
Behold  what  torture  is  in  store  for  me,  while  for  ten 
thousand  years  I  writhe  in  these  unseemly  chains ! 
Yet  the  things  that  come  are  all  foreknown  to  me,  and 
nothing  happens  unexpected ;  and  I  must  bear  as  best 
I  may  the  ills  that  will  perforce  be  mine,  knowing  that 
the  end  of  all  these  things  shall  come  to  me  at  last.' 

"  Then  the  Ocean  nymphs,  with  the  fragrance  of 
flowers  and  a  rustling  sound  like  the  whirr  of  birds, 
came  floating  through  the  air,  and  hovered  about  the 
crag  where  Prometheus  was  bound.  They  had  heard 
the  clank  of  the  iron  and  the  heavy  blow  of  the  sledge 
resounding  to  the  very  cavern-depths  of  Ocean;  and 
they  had  hastened  to  come,  and  offer  him  their  sym- 
pathy. 

"  Following  them,  came  old  Oceanus  himself,  riding 
in  his  winged  chariot ;  for  no  firmer  friend  had  Pro- 
metheus than  this  hoary-headed  ancient  of  the  encir- 
cling sea.  He  came  to  condole  with  the  suffering  Titan, 
and  to  counsel  patience  and  submission.  But  he  staid 
not  long. 

" '  I  will  drink  the  cup  of  bitterness  to  its  very  dregs,' 
said  Prometheus,  'and  will  bide  the  time  when  Zeus 
shall  have  quenched  his  wrath.' 

"  And  Oceanus,  feeling  that  he  had  come  in  vain, 
turned  about,  and  gladly  hastened  homeward  to  his 
halls  beneath  the  ocean  billows. 


196  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"  After  this  many  others  came,  weeping  tears  of  sor- 
row for  the  sufferer, — tears  of  anger  at  the  tyranny  of 
Zeus.  And  wails  of  mourning  were  borne  thither  on 
the  wings  of  the  wind  from  all  the  tribes  that  dwelt 
in  Asia, — from  the  warrior  maidens  on  the  Colchian 
coasts,  from  the  savage  horsemen  of  the  Scythian 
plains,  and  from  the  dwellers  on  the  farther  shores  of 
Araby.  But  the  Titan,  chained  to  the  desolate  crags, 
suffered  on.  Above  him  the  vultures  hovered,  and  the 
wild  eagles  shrieked ;  and  sun  and  storm  beat  merci- 
lessly upon  his  head,  as  the  weary  days  and  the  length- 
ening years  passed  by.     And  yet  no  deliverance  came. 

"  One  day,  as  he  writhed  helplessly  in  his  chains, 
Prometheus  saw  in  the  valley  below  him  what  at  so 
great  distance  seemed  to  be  a  beautiful  heifer,  having  a 
fair  face  like  that  of  a  woman.  *  Surely,'  said  he  aloud, 
'  it  is  the  child  of  Inachus,  she  who  warmed  the  heart 
of  Zeus,  and  is  now  through  Here's  hate  changed  into 
an  unseemly  shape,  and  driven  to  weary  wanderings." 

"  Then  the  maiden  gazed  at  him  in  wonder,  and 
asked,  '  Who  are  you  whom  the  gods  have  doomed  to 
suffer  in  this  solitary  place  ?  And  how  came  you  to 
know  my  father's  name,  and  the  sorrows  that  have  come 
upon  me  ?  And  tell  me,  I  pray,  if  such  knowledge  be 
yours,  whether  there  shall  ever  be  any  help  for  me,  and 
when  my  sufferings  shall  have  an  end.' 

"  The  Titan  answered,  •  I  who  speak  to  thee  am  Pro- 
metheus, who  brought  down  fire  to  men,  and  gave  them 
knowledge,  and  taught  them  how  to  do  godlike  things. 


The   Children  of  Prometheus.  197 

And  I  know  that  thou  art  Io,  once  the  lovely  daughter 
of  Inachus,  king  of  Argos ;  but  what  thou  art  now,  let 
thy  own  lips  speak  and  answer.' 

"  '  I  cannot  choose  but  tell  you  all,'  the  maiden  an- 
swered, '  though  my  speech  shall  with  sobs  be  broken 
when  I  recall  the  memory  of  happy  days  forever  gone. 
There  was  a  time  when  in  my  father's  halls  I  dwelt  in 
maidenly  freedom,  a  spoiled  and  petted  child.  But  as  I 
grew  to  womanhood,  dreams  came  to  me  which  told  me 
that  I  was  beloved  by  Zeus.  Such  trouble  did  these 
visions  bring  to  me,  that  I  was  fain  to  tell  my  father 
of  them.  He  knew  not  what  to  do.  But  he  sent  swift 
messengers  to  Delphi  and  Dodona  to  ask  the  oracles 
what  the  dreams  portended,  and  how  he  could  best  give 
pleasure  to  the  gods.  The  answer  came,  that  he  should 
drive  me  from  his  doors  into  the  wide  and  cruel  world, 
or  otherwise  the  fiery  bolts  of  Zeus  would  burn  up  all 
his  household  and  destroy  him  utterly.  Reluctantly 
and  weeping  bitter  tears,  he  shut  me  out ;  and  lo  ! 
straightway  my  body  was  changed  into  the  loathed  form 
which  stands  before  you,  and  a  gad -fly  stung  me  with 
its  fangs,  and  I  rushed  away  in  madness,  vainly  hoping 
to  find  relief  at  Lerne's  fountain  water.  But  there  the 
herdsman  Argus,  with  his  hundred  eyes,  did  track  me 
out ;  and  with  his  scourge  and  the  goading  fly,  I  was 
driven  along  unending  ways.  Then  Hermes,  seeing 
my  distress,  took  pity  on  me,  and  sought  to  free  me 
from  my  cruel  keeper  But  Argus  never  slept ;  and  with 
his  hundred  eyes  he  saw  every  danger,  and  shunned  it 


198  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

while  it  was  yet  afar.  At  last  Hermes  bethought  him 
of  the  power  of  music.  Playing  a  soft  melody  on  his 
lute,  he  stole  gently  towards  the  herdsman ;  the  sweet 
sounds  charmed  the  savage  ear,  and  sleep  overpowered 
the  hundred  eyes.  Then  Hermes  drew  his  sword 
quickly,  and  smote  off  the  head  of  Argus,  thus  gaining 
for  himself  the  name  of  the  Argus-queller.  But  the 
shade  of  the  terrible  herdsman  still  follows  me,  and  I 
find  no  rest  ;  and  aimlessly  I  have  come,  thus  goaded 
onward,  to  this  wild  mountain  region.' 

"  Then  Prometheus  in  pitying  accents  said,  '  Listen 
now  to  me,  and  I  will  tell  thee,  Io,  what  other  sorrows 
thou  must  bear  from  Here ;  for  it  is  she  who  brought 
this  woe  upon  thee  and  who  hounds  thee  thus  from  land 
to  land.  Thou  shalt  journey  onward  from  these  moun- 
tain regions  through  the  Scythian  land,  and  the  region 
of  the  uncouth  Chalybes  who  work  in  iron.  Thence 
thou  shalt  cross  the  mountains  to  the  dwelling-place  of 
the  Amazons,  who  shall  lead  thee  to  the  place  where 
the  ocean-gates  are  narrowest.  There  thou  shalt 
plunge  into  the  waves,  and  swim  with  fearlessness  of 
heart  to  Asia's  shore.  And  that  strait  shall  by  its 
name,  Bosphorus,  tell  to  latest  ages  the  story  of  thy 
wandering.  But  what  I  have  told  thee  is  only  the 
beginning  of  thy  doom.' 

"Then  Io  wept. 

" '  Were  it  not  better  to  die,'  she  asked,  '  than  to 
endure  this  hopeless  misery  ? ' 

"'Not  so,  O  maiden,'  answered  the  Titan;  'for  if 


PROMETHEUS. 


The  Children  of  Prometheus.  1 99 

thou  livest,  then  a  son  of  thine  shall  loose  me  from  my 
fetters,  and  perchance  shall  shake  the  throne  of  Zeus 
himself.  When  thou  hast  crossed  the  sea-ways  which 
part  the  continent,  thou  shalt  wander  on  until  thou  hast 
reached  the  outmost  islands  where  the  Gorgons  dwell ; 
then  returning  thou  shalt  pass  through  the  country  of 
the  griffins  and  the  region  of  Ethiopia,  and  shalt  come 
at  last  to  the  three-cornered  ground  where  flows  the 
Nile.  There  thou  shalt  rest,  and  thy  maiden  form  with 
all  its  comeliness  shall  be  thine  again.  In  Canobus,  a 
fair  city  by  the  sea,  shall  a  home  be  made  for  thee ;  and 
there  shall  Epaphos  thy  son  be  born,  from  whom  in 
after-times  shall  spring  great  Heracles,  who  shall  break 
my  bonds  and  set  me  free  from  these  hated  fetters.' 

"  Then  Io,  with  a  sigh  of  mingled  hope  and  despair, 
went  on  her  weary  way,  and  left  Prometheus  alone 
again  in  the  everlasting  solitudes.  And  the  wild  eagles 
swooped  down  from  their  high-built  nests,  and  circled 
with  threatening  screams  about  him  ;  a  grim  vulture 
flapped  its  wings  in  his  face,  and  buried  its  talons 
in  his  bosom  ;  a  mighty  storm  came  hurtling  down 
through  the  mountain  passes  ;  the  earth  shook  to  and 
fro,  and  the  peaks  of  Caucasus  seemed  as  if  toppling 
to  their  base ;  a  hurricane  of  snow  and  hail  and  rat- 
tling ice  smote  the  Titan  about  the  head,  and  wrapped 
his  body  in  eddying  gusts  ;  the  lightnings  leaped  with 
lurid  glare  athwart  the  sky,  and  the  thunders  crashed 
with  deafening  roar  among  the  crags  ;  "and  earth  and 
air  and  sea  seemed  blent  together  in  a  mighty  turmoil, 


200  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

and  whirling  into  utter  chaos.  Yet,  in  the  midst  of  all, 
the  old  Titan  quailed  not ;  but  with  voice  serene  and 
strong  he  sang  of  the  day  when  right  shall  triumph  over 
might,  when  truth  shall  trample  error  in  the  dust,  and 
the  reign  of  Zeus  give  place  to  that  of  a  nobler  monarch 
just  and  perfect  in  all  his  ways. 

"  Thus  years  upon  years  passed,  and  ages  circled  by, 
until  thirteen  generations  of  men  had  lived  and  died 
upon  the  earth.  Then  came  Heracles,  the  descendant 
of  Io,  to  purge  the  world  of  vile  monsters,  and  to  give 
freedom  to  those  who  were  in  bonds.  And  as  he  wan- 
dered from  land  to  land,  to  do  the  bidding  of  his  master 
Eurystheus,  he  passed  through  Ethiopia,  and  came  to 
the  region  of  the  Caucasus,  close  by  the  eastern  Ocean's 
stream.  There,  as  he  gazed  upward  at  the  everlasting 
peaks,  he  saw  the  great  Titan  fettered  to  the  naked 
rock,  while  the  eagles  circled  about  him,  and  the  grim 
vulture  digged  its  talons  into  his  flesh  ;  and  Heracles 
knew  that  this  was  Prometheus  the  ancient,  the  friend 
of  the  human  race  and  the  foe  of  tyrants.  He  drew  his 
bow,  and  with  his  unerring  arrows  slew  the  eagles  and 
the  vulture  ;  and  then,  with  mighty  blows  of  his  club, 
he  broke  the  chains  which  Hephaestus  of  old  had 
wrought,  and  with  his  strong  hands  he  loosed  the  long- 
suffering  prisoner  from  his  fetters.  And  the  earth 
rejoiced ;  and  men  everywhere  sang  peeans  of  triumph, 
because  freedom  had  been  given  to  him  who  raised 
them  from  the  dust,  and  endowed  them  with  the  light 
of  reason  and  the  fire  of  god-like  intelligence." 


The  Children  of  Prometheus.  201 

This  was  the  tale  which  Menelaus  told  to  a  company 
of  eager  listeners  seated  about  him,  in  the  prow  of  the 
swift-sailing  vessel. 

"Now  you  should  know,"  he  added,  "that  every 
lover  of  freedom  in  Hellas  is  in  truth  a  child  of  Prome- 
theus. And  so  when  Apollo,  through  his  oracle,  bade 
me  fetch  from  Ilios  the  bones  of  the  old  Titan's  chil- 
dren, I  understood  that  I  was  to  gather  the  dust  of  all 
the  Hellenes  who  have  died  in  the  Trojan  land,  and 
carry  it  to  Lacedaemon  for  honored  burial.  And  such 
is  the  errand  upon  which  we  are  sailing  to-day." 

"  But  why  is  it  said  that  every  Hellene  is  a  child 
of  Prometheus  ? "  asked  the  captain.  "  Is  it  simply 
because  he  is  a  lover  of  freedom  and  a  hater  of  tyrants, 
as  the  old  Titan  was  ?  Or  is  there  a  real  line  of  kin- 
ship reaching  from  us  up  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  answered  the  king.  "  While  Prome- 
theus hung  fettered  to  the  bleak  crag  of  Caucasus,  and 
in  grim  patience  bided  the  day  of  deliverance,  his  son 
Deucalion  tilled  the  plains  of  Phthia,  and  gathered  the 
ripe  fruits  on  its  sunny  hills.  And  he  dwelt  in  peace 
with  all  men,  cherishing  in  his  heart  the  words  which 
his  father  had  spoken  to  him  in  former  times.  But  the 
world  was  full  of  wickedness,  and  there  was  violence 
and  bloodshed  everywhere ;  and  men  no  longer  haa 
respect  for  the  gods,  or  love  for  one  another.  'We 
are  a  law  unto  ourselves,'  they  cried.  'Why  then 
should  any  one  obey  the  behests  of  a  master  whom  he 
has  not  seen  ? '     And  they  went  on  eating  and  drink- 


202  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

ing  and  making  merry,  and  gave  no  thanks  to  the  giver 
of  every  good. 

"  At  length,  when  their  wickedness  waxed  so  great 
that  it  was  past  all  bearing,  Zeus  spoke  the  word,  and 
a  mighty  flood  burst  upon  the  land.  The  west  wind 
came  sweeping  in  from  the  great  sea,  bringing  in  its 
arms  dark  clouds  laden  with  rain.  And  when  Deuca- 
lion saw  the  veil  of  darkness  covering  the  sky,  and 
heard  the  roar  of  the  hurricane  in  the  valley  below  him, 
he  called  to  Pyrrha,  his  golden-haired  wife,  and  said, 
'  Surely,  now,  the  day  has  come  of  which  my  father 
told  me  often,  —  the  day  when  floods  of  water  shall 
come  upon  the  earth  to  punish  the  wickedness  of  men. 
Hasten  into  the  ark  which  I  have  built,  that,  if  so  be, 
we  may  save  ourselves  from  the  merciless  waves.' 

"  And  they  made  the  ark  ready,  and  put  a  great  store 
of  food  in  its  broad  hold,  and  waited  for  the  rising  of 
the  waters.  Nor  was  it  long ;  for  the  torrents  gushed 
down  from  the  hillsides  and  filled  the  valleys,  and  the 
plains  were  covered  over,  and  the  forests  sank  from 
sight  beneath  the  waves.  But  Deucalion  and  Pyrrha 
sat  in  the  ark,  and  floated  safely  on  the  bosom  of  the 
heaving  waters.  Day  after  day  they  drifted  hither  and 
thither,  until  at  last  the  ark  rested  on  the  lofty  peak 
of  Parnassus.  Then  Deucalion  and  Pyrrha  stepped  out 
upon  the  dry  ground  ;  the  rain  ceased  to  fall,  the  clouds 
were  scattered,  and  the  waters  fled  down  the  valleys 
and  hastened  to  the  sea ;  but  all  the  people  of  Hellas, 
save  only  Deucalion  and  Pyrrha,  had  perished  in  the 


The   Children  of  Prometheus.  203 

flood.  And  feeling  their  loneliness  in  the  midst  of  the 
ruin  and  death  which  had  come  upon  the  land,  these 
two  built  an  altar  to  the  gods,  and  offered  thanks  for 
their  deliverance.  Then  Zeus  sent  Hermes,  the  bright 
messenger,  to  speak  words  of  comfort  to  them. 

"'Among  all  the  folk  of  this  land,'  he  said,  'you 
alone  have  lived  blameless  lives,  and  with  your  clean 
hands  and  pure  hearts  have  pleased  the  immortals.  Ask 
now  what  you  most  desire,  and  it  shall  be  given  to 
you.' 

"  Then  Deucalion  wept  as  he  bowed  before  the  mes- 
senger. '  Grant  that  we  may  see  the  earth  teeming 
again  with  busy  men,'  he  said. 

'"It  shall  be  as  you  wish,'  answered  Hermes.  'As 
you  go  down  the  mountain  into  the  plain,  cover  your 
faces  with  your  mantles,  and  throw  the  bones  of  your 
mother  behind  you.' 

"Then  the  messenger  left  them,  and  they  wondered 
between  themselves  what  was  the  meaning  of  his  words. 

"  '  Who  is  our  mother  ? '  asked  Pyrrha. 

" '  Is  not  the  earth  the  mother  of  us  all  ? '  then  an- 
swered Deucalion.    'His  meaning  is  plain  enough  now.' 

"  So,  as  they  went  down  Parnassus,  they  took  up 
stones,  and  threw  them  behind  them.  And  the  stones 
which  Deucalion  threw  sprang  up  and  were  mighty 
armed  men  ;  and  those  which  Pyrrha  threw  became  fair 
women.  Thus  the  hills  and  the  valleys  were  peopled 
anew ;  and  the  earth  smiled  and  was  glad  that  a  new 
and  happier  day  had  dawned. 


204  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"  But  Deucalion  went  with  Pyrrha  into  Locris ;  and 
there  he  built  the  city  of  Opus,  where  he  reigned  king 
for  many  years ;  and  there  sons  and  daughters,  noble 
and  beautiful,  were  born ;  but  the  noblest  was  Hellen, 
from  whom  the  Hellenes  are  descended,  and  our  country 
of  Hellas  takes  its  name. 

"  Do  you  understand  now  how  every  one  of  us  can 
claim  to  be  a  son  of  great  Prometheus  ? " 


ADVENTURE  XVII. 


A   CAUSE   OF  WAR. 

Time  passed. 

Menelaus  had  returned  from  Ilios,  bringing  with  him 
the  bones  of  his  countrymen  who  had  died  in  that  dis- 
tant land.  The  great  plague  had  been  stayed,  for  the 
anger  of  Apollo  had  been  assuaged.  And  it  had  seemed 
for  a  time  that  the  old  days  of  peace  and  plenty  had 
come  again  to  Lacedaemon,  never  to  depart. 

Yet  within  a  few  weeks  all  was  changed  once  more. 
There  was  silence  in  the  golden  halls  of  Menelaus,  and 
guests  sat  no  longer  as  of  yore  around  the  banquet 
tables.  Anger  and  grief  and  uneasiness  were  plainly 
seen  in  every  face.  Men  gathered  in  the  streets,  and 
talked  in  wild,  excited  tones  about  the  strange  things 
which  had  lately  happened  in  Lacedaemon;  and  the 
words  "  Helen,"  and  "Paris,"  and  "Troy,"  and  "Ilios" 
seemed  to  be  on  every  tongue,  and  repeated  with  every 
sign  of  love  and  hatred,  of  admiration  and  anxiety. 

"  Our  good  king,  by  his  visit  to  Ilios,  lifted  the 
scourge  of  pestilence  and  famine  from  our  land,"  said 
one  of  the  elders  of  the  city ;  "  but  he  brought  to  our 

ao«; 


206  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

shores  a  greater  evil,  —  even  Paris,  the  handsome  prince 
of  Troy.  And  now  the  glory  of  our  country,  the  sun 
which  delighted  all  hearts,  the  peerless  Helen,  has  been 
stolen  by  the  perfidious  one,  and  carried  to  his  home 
beyond  the  sea." 

"  And  do  you  think  there  will  be  war  ? "  asked  a  long- 
haired soldier,  toying  with  the  short  dagger  in  his  belt. 

"  How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  "  answered  the  elder. 
"When  Menelaus  won  peerless  Helen  for  his  wife,  the 
noblest  princes  of  Hellas  promised  with  solemn  oaths 
that  they  would  aid  him  against  any  one  who  should  try 
either  by  guile  or  by  force  to  take  her  from  him.  Let 
the  word  be  carried  from  city  to  city,  and  all  Hellas  will 
soon  be  in  arms.  The  king,  with  his  brother  Agamem- 
non, has  even  now  crossed  over  to  Pylos  to  take  counsel 
with  old  Nestor,  the  wisest  of  men.  When  he  comes 
back  to  Lacedsemon,  you  may  expect  to  see  the  watch- 
fires  blazing  on  the  mountain-tops." 

"No  sight  would  be  more  welcome,"  answered  the 
soldier. 

"  None,  indeed,  save  only  the  towers  and  palaces  of 
Troy  in  flames  !  "  returned  the  other  earnestly. 

Meanwhile,  with  troubled  brow  and  anxious  heart, 
Menelaus  sat  in  Nestor's  halls,  and  told  the  story  of 
his  wrongs.  Before  him,  seated  on  a  fair  embroidered 
couch,  was  the  aged  king,  listening  with  eager  ears. 
Behind  him  stood  his  brother  Agamemnon,  tall  and 
strong,  and  with  eye   and  forehead  like  mighty  Zeus. 


A  Cause  of  War.  207 

Close  by  his  feet  two  heroes  sat :  on  this  side,  Antilo- 
chus,  the  valiant  son  of  Nestor ;  and  on  that,  sage 
Palamedes,  prince  of  Euboea's  distant  shores.  The  last 
had  just  arrived  at  Pylos,  and  had  not  learned  the 
errand  which  had  brought  the  king  of  Lacedaemon 
thither. 

"Tell  again  the  story  of  your  visit  to  Troy,"  said 
Nestor.  "Our  guest,  good  Palamedes,  would  fain 
understand  it  all ;  and  I  doubt  not  that  he  may  be  of 
service  to  your  cause." 

Then  Menelaus  began  once  more  at  the  beginning, — 
"There  is  no  need  that  I  should  speak  of  the  long 
voyage  to  Ilios,  or  of  the  causes  which  persuaded  me 
to  undertake  it.  When  I  drew  near  the  lofty  citadels 
of  Troy,  and  through  the  Scaean  gates  could  see  the 
rows  of  stately  dwellings  and  Athene's  marble  temple, 
and  the  busy  market-place  of  that  great  city,  I  stopped 
there  in  wonder,  fearing  to  venture  farther.  Then  I 
sent  a  herald  to  the  gates,  who  should  make  known  my 
name  and  lineage,  and  the  errand  upon  which  I  had 
come ;  but  I  waited  without  in  the  shade  of  a  spread- 
ing beech,  not  far  from  the  towering  wall.  Before  me 
stood  the  mighty  city ;  behind  me  the  fertile  plain 
sloped  gently  to  the  sea  ;  in  the  distance  I  could  see 
the  tomb  of  Ilus  and  the  sparkling  waters  of  Sca- 
mander;  while  much  farther,  and  on  the  other  side, 
the  wooded  peak  of  Ida  lifted  itself  toward  the  clouds. 
But  I  had  not  long  to  view  this  scene ;  for  a  noble 
company  of  men   led  by   Paris  himself,  handsome  as 


208  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

Apollo,  came  out  of  the  gates  to  welcome  me.  With 
words  of  kind  greeting  from  the  king,  they  bade  me 
enter  within  the  walls.  They  led  me  through  the 
Scaean  gates  and  along  the  well-paved  streets,  until  we 
came,  at  last,  to  Priam's  noble  hall.  It  was  a  splendid 
house,  with  broad  doorways  and  polished  porticos,  and 
marble  columns  richly  carved.  Within  were  fifty 
chambers,  joining  one  another,  all  walled  with  polished 
stone ;  in  these  abode  the  fifty  sons  of  Priam  with 
their  wedded  wives.  On  the  other  side,  and  opening 
into  the  court,  were  twelve  chambers,  built  for  his 
daughters ;  while  over  all  were  the  sleeping-rooms  for 
that  noble  household,  and  around  were  galleries  and 
stairways  leading  to  the  king's  great  hall  below. 

"King  Priam  received  me  kindly,  and,  when  he 
understood  my  errand,  left  naught  undone  to  help  me 
forward  with  my  wishes.  Ten  days  I  abode  as  a  guest 
in  his  halls,  and  when  I  would  return  to  Lacedaemon 
he  pressed  me  to  tarry  yet  a  month  in  Troy.  But  the 
winds  were  fair,  and  the  oracles  promised  a  pleasant 
voyage,  and  I  begged  that  on  the  twelfth  day  he  would 
let  me  depart.  So  he  and  his  sons  brought  many 
gifts,  rich  and  beautiful,  and  laid  them  at  my  feet, — a 
fair  mantle,  and  a  doublet,  and  a  talent  of  fine  gold, 
and  a  sword  with  a  silver-studded  hilt,  and  a  drinking- 
cup  richly  engraved  that  I  might  remember  them  when 
I  pour  libations  to  the  gods. 

"'Take  these  gifts,'  said  Priam,  'as  tokens  of  our 
friendship  for  you,  and  not  only  for  you,  but  for  all  who 


A   Cause  of  War.  209 

dwell  in  distant  Hellas.  For  we  too  are  the  children 
of  the  immortals.  Our  mighty  ancestor,  Dardanus, 
was  the  son  of  Zeus.  He  it  was  who  built  Dardania 
on  the  slopes  of  Ida,  where  the  waters  gush  in  many 
silvery  streams  from  underneath  the  rocky  earth.  To 
Dardanus  a  son  was  born  named  Erichthonius,  who, 
in  his  time,  was  the  richest  of  mortal  men.  And 
Erichthonius  was  the  father  of  Tros,  to  whom  were 
born  three  noble  sons,  Ilus,  Assaracus,  and  Ganymedes. 
The  last  was  the  handsomest  of  men,  and  for  his  beauty's 
sake  the  gods  carried  him  to  Ida's  sacred  summit  to 
be  the  cup-bearer  of  Father  Zeus  and  the  companion 
of  the  immortals.  Then  Ilus  had  a  son,  famous  in 
song  and  story,  named  Laomedon,  who  in  his  old  age 
became  my  father.  He,  though  my  sire,  did  many 
unwise  things,  and  brought  sore  distress  upon  the 
people  of  this  land. 

"  '  One  day  Apollo  and  Poseidon  came  to  sacred  Troy, 
disguised  as  humble  wayfarers  seeking  some  employ- 
ment. This  they  did  because  so  ordered  by  mighty 
Zeus. 

'""What  can  you  do?"  asked  my  father,  when  the 
two  had  told  their  wishes. 

"' Poseidon  answered,  "I  am  a  builder  of  walls." 

"'And  Apollo  answered,  "I  am  a  shepherd,  and  a 
tender  of  herds." 

" '  "  It  is  well,"  answered  Laomedon.  "  The  wall- 
builder  shall  build  a  wall  around  this  Troy  so  high  and 
strong  that  no  enemy  can  pass  it.     The  shepherd  shah 


2  io  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

tend  my  herds  of  crook-horned  kine  in  the  wooded 
glens  of  Ida.  If  at  the  end  of  a  twelvemonth,  the  wall 
be  built,  and  if  the  cattle  thrive  without  loss  of  one, 
then  I  will  pay  you  your  hire :  a  talent  of  gold,  two 
tripods  of  silver,  rich  robes,  and  armor  such  as  heroes 
wear." 

" '  So  the  shining  archer,  and  the  shaker  of  the  earth, 
served  my  father  through  the  year  for  the  hire  which 
he  had  promised.  Poseidon  built  a  wall,  high  and  fair, 
around  the  city  ;  and  Apollo  tended  the  shambling  kine, 
and  lost  not  one.  But  when  they  claimed  their  hire, 
Laomedon  drove  them  away  with  threats,  telling  them 
that  he  would  bind  their  feet  and  hands  together,  and 
sell  them  as  slaves  into  some  distant  land,  having  first 
sheared  off  their  ears  with  his  sharp  sword.  And  the 
twain  went  away  with  angry  hearts,  planning  in  their 
minds  how  they  might  avenge  themselves. 

" '  Back  to  his  watery  kingdom,  and  his  golden  palace 
beneath  the  sea,  went  great  Poseidon.  He  harnessed 
his  steeds  to  his  chariot,  and  rode  forth  upon  the  waves. 
He  loosed  the  mighty  winds  from  their  prison-house, 
and  sent  them  raging  over  the  sea.  The  angry  waters 
rushed  in  upon  the  land  ;  they  covered  the  pastures  and 
the  rich  plain  of  Troy,  and  threatened  even  to  beat 
down  the  mighty  walls  which  their  king  had  built. 
Then,  little  by  little,  the  flood  shrank  back  again ;  and 
the  people  went  out  of  the  city  to  see  the  waste  of  slime 
and  black  mud  which  covered  their  meadows.  While 
they  were  gazing  upon  the  scene,  a  fearful  monster, 


A   Cause  of  War.  211 

sent  by  angry  Poseidon,  came  up  out  of  the  sea,  and 
fell  upon  them,  and  drove  them  with  hideous  slaughter 
back  to  the  city  gates  ;  neither  would  he  allow  any  one 
to  come  outside  of  the  walls. 

" '  Then  my  father,  in  his  great  distress,  clad  himself 
in  mourning,  and  went  in  deep  humility  to  the  temple 
of  Athene^  where  stands  the  heaven-sent  statue  which 
we  call  Palladion.  In  sore  distress,  he  called  unto  the 
goddess,  and  besought  to  know  the  means  whereby  th»c 
anger  of  Poseidon  might  be  assuaged.  And  in  solemn 
tones  a  voice  came  from  the  moveless  lips  of  the 
Palladion,  saying,  — 

"  '  "  Every  day  one  of  the  maidens  of  Troy  must  be 
fed  to  the  monster  outside  of  the  walls.  The  shaker 
of  the  earth  has  spoken.  Disobey  him  not,  lest  more 
cruel  punishments  befall  thee." 

"'Then  in  every  house  of  Troy  there  was  sore  dis- 
tress and  lamentation,  for  no  one  knew  upon  whom  the 
doom  would  soonest  fall.  And  every  day  a  hapless 
maiden,  young  and  fair,  was  chained  to  the  great  rock 
by  the  shore,  and  left  there  to  be  the  food  of  the  pitiless 
monster.  And  the  people  cried  aloud  in  their  distress, 
and  cursed  the  mighty  walls  and  the  high  towers  which 
had  been  reared  by  the  unpaid  labors  of  Poseidon ;  and 
my  father  sat  upon  his  high  seat,  and  trembled  because 
of  the  dire  calamities  which  his  own  deeds  had  brought 
upon  his  people. 

" '  At  last,  after  many  humbler  victims  had  perished, 
the  lot  fell  upon  the  fairest  of  my  sisters,  Hesione,  my 


2M2  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

father's  best-loved  daughter.  In  sorrow  we  arrayed  her 
in  garments  befitting  one  doomed  to  an  untimely  death  ; 
and  when  we  had  bidden  her  a  last  farewell,  we  gave  her 
to  the  heralds  to  lead  forth  to  the  place  of  sacrifice. 
Just  then,  however,  a  noble  stranger,  taller  and  more 
stately  than  any  man  in  Troy,  came  down  the  street 
from  the  Scaean  gate.  Fair-haired  and  blue-eyed,  hand- 
some  and  strong,  he  seemed  a  very  god  to  all  who  looked 
upon  him.  Over  his  shoulder  he  wore  the  tawny  skin 
of  a  mighty  lion,  while  in  his  hand  he  carried  a  club 
most  wonderful  to  behold.  And  the  people,  as  he 
passed,  prayed  him  that  he  would  free  our  city  from  the 
dread  monster  who  was  robbing  us  of  our  fair  loved 
ones. 

" ' "  I  know  that  thou  art  a  god !  "  cried  my  father, 
when  he  saw  the  stranger.  "  I  pray  thee,  save  my 
daughter,  who  even  now  is  being  led  forth  to  a  cruel 
death ! " 

it  t  u  you  make  mistake,"  answered  the  fair  stranger. 
"  I  am  not  one  of  the  gods.  My  name  is  Heracles,  and 
like  you  I  am  mortal.  Yet  I  may  help  you  in  this  your 
time  of  need." 

"  '  Now,  in  my  father's  stables  there  were  twelve  fair 
steeds,  the  best  that  the  earth  ever  knew.  So  light  of 
foot  were  they,  that  when  they  bounded  over  the  land, 
they  might  run  upon  the  topmost  ears  of  ripened  corn, 
and  break  them  not ;  and  when  they  bounded  over  the 
sea,  not  even  Poseidon's  steeds  could  glide  so  lightly 
upon  the  crests  of  the  waves.     Some  say  they  were  the 


A  Cause  of  War.  213 

steeds  of  Boreas  given  to  my  grandfather  Tros,  by  his 
sire  Erichthonius  ;  others,  that  they  were  the  price 
which  Zeus  paid  for  godlike  Ganymedes,  most  beautiful 
of  men.  These  steeds,  my  father  promised  to  give  to 
Heracles  if  he  would  save  Hesione. 

" '  Then  the  heralds  led  my  fair  sister  to  the  shore, 
and  chained  her  to  the  rock,  there  to  wait  for  the 
coming  of  the  monster.  But  Heracles  stood  near  her, 
fearless  in  his  strength.  Soon  the  waves  began  to 
rise ;  the  waters  were  disturbed,  and  the  great  beast, 
with  hoarse  bellowings,  lifted  his  head  above  the 
breakers,  and  rushed  forward  to  seize  his  fair  prey. 
Then  the  hero  sprang  to  meet  him.  With  blow  upon 
blow  from  his  mighty  club,  he  felled  the  monster; 
the  waters  of  the  sea  were  reddened  with  blood ; 
Hesione  was  saved,  and  Troy  was  freed  from  the  dread- 
ful curse. 

" ' "  Behold  thy  daughter ! "  said  Heracles,  leading  her 
gently  back  to  the  Scaean  gate,  and  giving  her  to  her 
father.  "I  have  saved  her  from  the  jaws  of  death,  and 
delivered  your  country  from  the  dread  scourge.  Give 
me  now  my  hire.' 

" '  Shame  fills  my  heart  as  I  tell  this  story,  for  thank- 
lessness  was  the  bane  of  my  father's  life.  Ungrateful 
to  the  hero  who  had  risked  so  much  and  done  so  much 
that  our  homes  and  our  country  might  be  saved  from 
ruin,  he  turned  coldly  away  from  Heracles ;  then  he 
shut  the  great  gates  in  his  face,  and  barred  him  out 
of  the  city,  and  taunted  him  from  the  walls,  saying, 


214  ^  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"  I  owe  thee  no  hire !  Begone  from  our  coasts,  ere 
I  scourge  thee  hence  !  " 

"  '  Full  of  wrath,  the  hero  turned  away.  "  I  go,  but  I 
will  come  again,"  he  said. 

"'Then  peace  and  plenty  blessed  once  more  the  land 
of  Ilios,  and  men  forgot  the  perils  from  which  they 
had  been  delivered.  But  ere  long,  great  Heracles  re- 
turned, as  he  had  promised  ;  and  with  him  came  a 
mighty  fleet  of  white-sailed  ships  and  many  warriors. 
Neither  gates  nor  strong  walls  could  stand  against  him. 
Into  the  city  he  marched,  and  straight  to  my  father's 
palace.  All  fled  before  him,  and  the  strongest  warriors 
quailed  beneath  his  glance.  Here,  in  this  very  court, 
he  slew  my  father  and  my  brothers  with  his  terrible 
arrows.  I  myself  would  have  fallen  before  his  wrath, 
had  not  my  sister,  fair  Hesione,  pleaded  for  my  life. 

"'"I  spare  his  life,"  said  Heracles,  in  answer  to  her 
prayers,  "  for  he  is  but  a  lad.  Yet  he  must  be  my  slave 
until  you  have  paid  a  price  for  him,  and  thus  redeemed 
him." 

"  'Then  Hesione  took  the  golden  veil  from  her  head, 
and  gave  it  to  the  hero  as  my  purchase  price.  And 
thenceforward  I  was  called  Priam,  or  the  purchased ; 
for  the  name  which  my  mother  gave  me  was  Podarkes, 
or  the  fleet-footed. 

"  'After  this,  Heracles  and  his  heroes  went  on  board 
their  ships  and  sailed  back  across  the  sea,  leaving  me 
alone  in  my  father's  halls.  For  they  took  fair  Hesione 
with  them,  and  carried  her  to  Salamis,  to  be  the  wife 


A  Cause  of  War.  215 

of  Telamon,  the  sire  of  mighty  Ajax.  There,  through 
these  long  years  she  has  lived  in  sorrow,  far  removed 
from  home  and  friends  and  the  scenes  of  her  happy 
childhood.  And  now  that  the  hero  Telamon,  to  whom 
she  was  wedded,  lives  no  longer,  I  ween  that  her  life  is 
indeed  a  cheerless  one.' 

"  When  Priam  had  finished  his  tale,  he  drew  his  seat 
still  nearer  mine,  and  looked  into  my  face  with  anxious, 
beseeching  eyes.  Then  he  said,  '  I  have  long  wished 
to  send  a  ship  across  the  sea  to  bring  my  sister  back  to 
Troy.  A  dark-prowed  vessel,  built  for  speed  and  safety, 
lies  now  at  anchor  in  the  harbor,  and  a  picked  crew  is 
ready  to  embark  at  any  moment.  And  here  is  my  son 
Paris,  handsome  and  brave,  who  is  anxious  to  make 
voyage  to  Salamis,  to  seek  unhappy  Hesione.  Yet  our 
seamen,  having  never  ventured  far  from  home,  know 
nothing  of  the  dangers  of  the  deep,  nor  do  they  feel 
sure  that  they  can  find  their  way  to  Hellas.  And  so 
we  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you ;  and  that  is,  that  when 
your  ship  sails  to-morrow,  ours  may  follow  in  its  wake 
across  the  sea.' 

"  I  was  glad  when  Priam  spoke  these  words,  for,  in 
truth,  I  was  loath  to  part  with  Paris ;  and  I  arranged  at 
once  that  he  should  bear  me  company  in  my  own  swift 
ship,  while  his  vessel  with  its  crew  followed  not  far 
behind. 

"And  so  with  favoring  winds  being  blessed,  we  made 
a  quick  voyage  back  to  Lacedaemon,  bringing  with  us 
the  bones  of  my  beloved  countrymen.     What  followed 


2 1 6  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

is  too  sad  for  lengthy  mention,  and  is  in  part  already 
known  to  you.  Need  I  tell  you  how  I  opened  my  halls 
to  Paris,  and  left  no  act  of  courtesy  undone  that  I 
might  make  him  happy  ?  Need  I  tell  you  how  he  was 
welcomed  by  fair  Helen,  and  how  the  summer  days  fled 
by  on  golden  wings  ;  and  how  in  the  delights  of  Lace- 
daemon  he  forgot  his  errand  to  Salamis,  and  cared  only 
to  remain  with  me,  my  honored  guest  and  trusted  friend  ? 
One  day  a  message  came  to  me  from  my  old  friend  Ido- 
meneus.  He  had  planned  a  hunt  among  the  mountains 
and  wooded  vales  of  Crete,  and  he  invited  me  to  join 
him  in  the  sport.  I  had  not  seen  Idomeneus  since  the 
time  that  we  together,  in  friendly  contention,  sought 
the  hand  of  Helen.  I  could  not  do  otherwise  than 
accept  his  invitation,  for  he  had  sent  his  own  ship  to 
carry  me  over  to  Crete.  So  I  bade  farewell  to  Helen, 
saying,  '  Let  not  our  noble  guest  lack  entertainment 
while  I  am  gone  ;  and  may  the  golden  hours  glide 
happily  until  I  come  again.'  And  to  Paris  I  said, 
'  Tarry  another  moon  in  Lacedaemon  ;  and  when  I  re- 
turn from  Crete,  I  will  go  with  you  to  Salamis,  and  aid 
you  in  your  search  for  Hesione.'  Then  I  went  on  board 
the  waiting  ship,  and  prospering  breezes  carried  us  with- 
out delays  to  Crete. 

"  Idomeneus  received  me  joyfully,  and  entertained  me 
most  royally  in  his  palace  ;  and  for  nine  days  we  feasted 
in  his  halls,  and  made  all  things  ready  for  the  hunt. 
But,  lo !  on  the  evening  of  the  last  day,  a  vision  came 
to  me.     Gold-winged  Iris,  the  fleet-footed  messenger  of 


A  Cause  of  War.  217 

the  gods,  stood  before  me.  '  Hasten  back  to  Lace 
daemon,'  she  cried,  '  for  thou  art  robbed  of  thy  dearest 
treasure  ! '  And  even  while  she  spoke,  one  of  my  own 
ships  came  sailing  into  the  harbor,  bringing  trusted 
heralds  whom  the  elders  of  Lacedaemon  had  sent  to 
me.  They  told  me  the  fatal  news.  '  No  sooner  were 
you  well  on  your  way,'  they  said,  '  than  Paris  began  to 
put  his  ship  in  readiness  to  depart.  Helen  prayed  him 
to  tarry  until  your  return,  but  he  would  not  hearken. 
"  I  will  stay  no  longer,"  he  said.  "  My  seamen  rest 
upon  their  oars ;  the  sails  of  my  ship  are  spread ;  the 
breeze  will  soon  spring  up  that  will  carry  me  to  my  own 
fair  home  across  the  sea.  But  you,  beauteous  Helen, 
shall  go  with  me ;  for  the  deathless  gods  have  spoken 
it.  Aphrodite,  long  ago,  promised  that  the  most  beau- 
tiful woman  in  the  world  should  be  my  wife.  And  who 
is  that  most  beautiful  woman  if  it  is  not  yourself? 
Come !  fly  over  the  sea,  and  be  my  queen.  It  is  the 
will  of  the  gods."  ' 

"  It  was  thus  that  the  perfidious  Trojan  wrought  the 
ruin  of  all  that  was  dear  to  me.  At  first,  Helen  refused. 
But  Paris  is  a  handsome  prince,  and  day  after  day  he 
renewed  his  suit.  Then  on  the  sixth  day  she  yielded. 
In  the  darkness  of  the  night  they  went  on  board  his 
waiting  vessel,  carrying  with  them  the  gold  and  jewels 
of  my  treasure-house ;  and  in  the  morning,  when 
the  sun  arose  on  Lacedaemon,  they  were  far  out  at 
sea. 

"  You  know  the  rest :  how  in  wrath  and  great  sorrow 


2 1 8  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

I  hurried  home  from  Crete  ;  how  I  first  counselled  with 
my  own  elders,  and  then  with  my  brother  Agamemnon 
of  Mycenae.  And  now,  0  noble  Nestor,  we  have  come 
to  Pylos,  seeking  thy  advice.  On  these  two  things  my 
mind  is  set :  Helen  must  be  mine  again,  and  Paris  must 
suffer  the  punishment  due  to  traitors." 

When  Menelaus  had  ended,  sage  Nestor  answered 
with  many  words  of  counsel.  "  Keep  the  thought  of 
vengeance  ever  before  you,"  he  said.  "Yet  act  not 
rashly.  The  power  of  Troy  is  very  great ;  and,  in  case 
of  war,  all  the  tribes  of  Asia  will  make  common  cause 
with  Ilios.  But  an  insult  to  Lacedsemon  is  an  insult 
to  all  Hellas,  and  every  loyal  Hellene  will  hasten  to 
avenge  it.  More  than  this,  the  chiefs  of  almost  every 
state  have  already  sworn  to  aid  you.  We  have  but  to 
call  upon  them,  and  remind  them  of  their  oaths,  and 
all  the  mightiest  warriors  of  our  land  will  take  up  arms 
against  the  power  of  Troy." 

Then  Palamedes  spoke  in  like  manner,  and  his 
words  had  great  weight  with  Menelaus  ;  for  among  all 
the  heroes  there  were  few  who  equalled  him  in  wisdom. 
He  it  was  who  first  built  beacon  fires  on  the  headlands, 
and  lighthouses  to  warn  venturous  seamen  of  the  hid- 
den dangers  in  their  way  ;  he  it  was  who  first  invented 
scales  for  weighing,  and  who  taught  men  how  to 
measure  grain  and  wine  by  certain  standards  ;  he  it  was 
who  first  made  dice,  and  who  showed  what  beauty  and 
mystery  lie  hidden  in  the  letters  which  Cadmus  brought 


A  Cause  of  War.  219 

from  Phoenicia  to  Hellas.  And  he  was  wise  in  state- 
craft and  the  knowledge  of  human  nature. 

"  Nestor  has  spoken  well,"  he  said,  addressing  Mene- 
laus,  "and  it  behooves  us  to  follow  his  advice.  Now 
do  you  and  Agamemnon  return  at  once  to  Argos  and 
Lacedaemon,  and  call  upon  the  righting  men  along  the 
eastern  coast  to  join  you  in  the  war.  In  the  mean 
while,  Nestor  and  myself  will  do  the  same,  here  on  the 
western  coast  and  among  the  islands  of  the  sea." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Nestor,  "  there  is  Odysseus,  king 
of  Ithaca,  —  the  rarest  and  bravest  of  men.  Did  he 
but  know  of  this  affair,  he  would  be  a  host  within  him- 
self, to  lead  us  to  sure  victory." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Palamedes,  "and  we  must  seek 
his  aid  first.  My  ship  lies  now  at  anchor,  just  off  the 
beach  ;  and  if  noble  Nestor  will  be  my  comrade,  we  will 
sail  to-morrow  to  Ithaca,  and  make  sure  of  his  valued 
aid." 

"  Most  surely  I  will  go  with  you,"  said  old  Nestor. 
"And  I  will  never  rest  nor  give  up  the  fig Ul,  until 
Helen  is  returned  to  Menelaus,  and  Paris  has  rw*-<Mved 
his  due  reward." 


ADVENTURE  XVIII. 


AN   UNWILLING   HERO. 

In  the  shade  of  the  orchard  trees,  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Neritus,  there  was  gathered,  one  afternoon,  a 
happy  family  party.  The  chief  figure  in  the  group  was 
white-haired  Laertes,  in  his  gardener's  garb,  picking 
some  ripe  fruit  from  the  overloaded  branches.  At  his 
right  stood  Anticleia,  as  queenly  beautiful  as  when 
her  hero -husband  had  won  her  in  the  halls  of  old 
Autolycus.  At  his  left  was  Penelope,  her  sweet  face 
beaming  with  smiles  ;  while  on  the  ground  beside  her 
sat  Odysseus,  gently  dandling  in  his  arms  the  babe 
Telemachus,  and  laughing  at  the  budding  wisdom  of 
the  child. 

"  Some  men  wander  the  wide  world  over,  seeking  for 
empty  glory,"  said  he,  turning  towards  Penelope.  "  But 
I  would  rather  have  my  pleasant  home,  and  live  amid 
its  never-failing  delights,  than  share  the  honors  even  of 
great  Heracles." 

At  this  moment,  Phemius  the  bard  was  seen  coming 
in  haste  from  the  palace.  "  What  news,  Phemius  ? " 
asked  Odysseus.     "  Hast  thou  finished  that  new  song 


An  Unwilling  Hero.  221 

of  thine  ?  And  dost  thou  hasten  thus  to  sing  it  to  us 
before  some  part  of  it  shall  go  out  of  thy  mind  ? " 

"Nay,  master,"  answered  the  bard,  speaking  in 
anxious  tones.  "  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  there  are 
guests  waiting  in  the  hall.  Famous  men  they  are,  — » 
even  Nestor,  king  of  Pylos,  and  shrewd  Palamedes  of 
Euboea.  And  they  bring  wonderful  news,  —  news  of 
that  which  will,  perchance,  fill  our  land  with  sadness." 

"  Tell  me  what  it  is,"  said  Odysseus. 

Then  the  bard  told  the  story  of  Paris  and  Helen,  as 
he  had  learned  it  briefly  from  Palamedes ;  and  he 
explained  the  errand  of  the  hero-guests  which  they  had 
thoughtlessly  imparted  to  him.  Odysseus  looked  at  his 
smiling  babe,  and  at  his  fair  wife,  and  his  loved  mother, 
and  his  honored  father ;  and  his  brow  darkened  as  he 
shook  his  head,  and  said,  "  Why  should  I  risk  so  much, 
and,  joining  in  this  war,  leave  all  that  is  dear  to  me  on 
earth,  simply  for  the  sake  of  Menelaus  and  his  mis- 
guided Helen  ? " 

Then,  after  a  moment's  thought,  he  added,  "I  will 
not  go.  Tell  Nestor  and  Palamedes  that  I  am  mad,  and 
cannot  go." 

All  at  once  a  great  change  seemed  to  come  over  him. 
He  put  the  babe  into  its  nurse's  arms  ;  and  then  with 
long  strides,  and  in  the  aimless  manner  of  a  maniac,  he 
made  his  way  across  the  orchard,  and  along  the  foot- 
path by  the  beach  to  the  white  palace  near  the  shore. 
When  his  old  friends,  Nestor  and  Palamedes,  saw 
him,  they  hastened  towards  him,  expecting  to  receive 


222  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

his  greeting  ;  but  with  unmeaning  words,  and  a  vacant 
stare,  he  passed  by  them  without  a  word  of  recognition. 

"  He  is  mad,"  said  the  frightened  servants,  as  they 
fled  before  him. 

"Yes,  he  is  mad,  and  knows  not  where  he  is  nor 
what  he  does,"  said  Phemius,  hastily  rejoining  the 
guests.  "When  I  went  out  to  find  him  just  now,  he 
was  wandering  among  the  fruit  trees,  picking  the  green 
fruit,  and  roaring  like  a  wild  beast.  The  gods  have 
taken  his  reason  from  him." 

"  How  sad  that  so  great  a  mind  should  be  thus 
clouded  ! "  answered  Nestor,  with  a  sigh.  "  And  at 
this  time  it  is  doubly  sad  for  us  and  for  all  who  love 
him,  for  we  had  counted  on  great  things  from  shrewd 
Odysseus.  Surely  some  unfriendly  god  has  done  this 
thing  with  intent  to  harm  all  Hellas." 

"  Do  not  judge  hastily,"  whispered  Palamedes.  ''We 
shall  find  out  from  whence  this  madness  comes." 

Soon  Odysseus  rushed  from  his  chamber,  looking 
wildly  about  him,  as  if  the  very  Furies  were  at  his 
heels.  He  was  dressed  in  his  richest  garments,  and  on 
his  shoulder  he  carried  a  bag  of  salt.  Without  speak- 
ing to  any  one,  he  made  his  way  to  the  stables,  where, 
with  his  own  hands,  he  harnessed  a  mule  and  a  cow, 
and  yoked  them  side  by  side  to  a  plough.  Then  he 
drove  his  strange  team  down  to  the  beach,  and  began  to 
plough  long,  deep  furrows  in  the  sand.  By  and  by  he 
opened  the  bag  of  salt,  and  strewed  the  white  grains 
here  and  there,  as  though  he  were  sowing  seed.     This 


An  Unwilling  Hero.  223 

strange  work  he  continued  until  the  daylight  faded  into 
darkness,  and  all  the  people  were  fain  to  seek  rest  under 
their  home-roofs.  Then  he  drove  his  team  back  to  the 
stables,  unyoked  the  beasts  and  fed  them,  and  hurried 
silently  to  his  chamber. 

The  next  morning,  as  soon  as  the  dawn  appeared,  he 
was  seen  ploughing  the  sandy  beach  as  before. 

"I  will  see  whether  there  be  any  reason  in  his  mad- 
ness," said  Palamedes  to  Nestor. 

It  chanced  at  that  moment,  that  Eurycleia  the  nurse 
was  passing  by  with  little  Telemachus  in  her  arms. 
Without  another  word,  Palamedes  lifted  the  babe,  and 
laid  it  smiling  in  the  last  furrow  that  Odysseus  had 
made,  so  that  on  his  next  round  the  team  would  trample 
upon  it.  As  Odysseus  drew  near,  urging  forward  the 
mule  and  the  cow,  with  many  cries  and  maniacal  ges- 
tures, he  saw  the  helpless  babe.  The  sight  of  its 
danger  made  him  forget  himself  and  his  assumed  mad- 
ness ;  he  turned  his  team  aside,  and  running  forward 
seized  Telemachus,  and,  kissing  his  laughing  lips, 
handed  him,  with  every  show  of  gentleness,  to  the 
good  nurse. 

"  Ha,  Odysseus !  "  cried  Palamedes.  "  Thou  canst 
not  deceive  us.  Thou  art  no  more  mad  than  I  am. 
Cease  now  that  boyish  play,  and  come  and  talk  with  us 
as  becometh  a  hero." 

Then  Odysseus,  seeing  that  he  had  been  fairly  out- 
witted by  one  as  shrewd  as  himself,  knew  that  further 
pretence  of  madness  would  avail  him  nothing.     For  a 


224  A  Siory  of  the  Golden  Age. 

single  moment  his  brow  was  clouded  with  anger,  and  he 
whispered  hoarsely  to  Palamedes,  "  You  shall  have  your 
reward  for  this  !"  *  Then,  leaving  his  plough  and  his  ill- 
matched  team  upon  the  beach,  he  took  his  two  guests 
kindly  by  the  hand,  and  led  them  into  his  palace.  A 
great  feast  was  spread  upon  the  tables,  and  the  morning 
was  spent  in  eating  and  merry-making,  and  not  a  word 
was  said  concerning  the  great  business  which  had 
brought  the  kings  to  Ithaca. 

Later  in  the  day,  however,  Nestor  told  Odysseus  the 
story  of  the  perfidy  of  Paris.  Then  Palamedes  followed 
with  a  speech  so  clear,  so  forcible,  that  the  hearts  of  all 
who  heard  it  were  stirred  to  their  very  depths ;  and 
Odysseus,  rising  from  his  seat,  renewed  the  vow  which 
he  had  made  when  Menelaus  won  fair  Helen  for  his 
bride.  And  from  that  time  to  the  very  end,  there  was 
not  a  man  among  all  the  Hellenes,  who  threw  himself 
more  earnestly  into  the  work  than  did  Odysseus. 

For  seven  days  Nestor  and  Palamedes  tarried  at 
Ithaca,  talking  with  Odysseus,  and  making  plans  for  the 
war  against  Troy.  On  the  eighth  day,  the  three  heroes 
embarked  for  the  mainland ;  and  for  months  they  jour- 
neyed from  country  to  country,  and  from  city  to  city, 
reminding  the  princes  of  their  vows,  and  stirring  all 
Hellas  into  a  flame.  Soon  the  watch-fires  were  kindled 
on  every  mountain-top ;  and  every  warrior  in  the  land 
made  haste  to  see  that  his  arms  were  in  order,  and 
every  seaman  to  put  his  ship  to  rights.     And  Ares,  the 

1  See  Note  13  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


An   Unwilling  Hero.  225 

mighty  god  of  battle,  brandished  his  sword  above  the 
sea ;  dread  comets  blazed  red  in  mid-heaven ;  glittering 
stars  fell  to  the  earth,  or  shot  gleaming  athwart  the 
sky.  Sounds  of  warlike  preparation  were  heard,  not 
only  in  the  dwellings  of  men,  but  even  in  the  halls  of 
Zeus,  upon  the  airy  summit  of  Olympus. 


ADVENTURE  XIX. 


HEROES   IN   STRANGE   GARB. 

There  dwelt  at  Mycenae  a  wise  soothsayer,  named 
Calchas,  —  a  man  versed  in  all  the  lore  of  earth  and 
sky,  and  holding  some  sort  of  communion  with  the 
immortals.  He  could  lift  the  veil  of  the  future,  and  see 
what  to  other  men  lay  hidden  in  the  darkness  ;  and 
next  to  the  Pythian  oracle  at  Delphi,  or  the  talking  oak 
of  Dodona,  he  was  held  in  high  repute  as  knowing  the 
counsels  of  the  gods.  When  all  the  great  chiefs  sat  one 
day  in  Agamemnon's  hall,  and  talked  of  their  warriors 
and  their  ships  and  their  arms,  and  boasted  of  their 
readiness  to  sail  at  once  for  Ilios,  the  old  soothsayer 
came  and  stood  before  them.  His  white  locks  streamed 
in  flowing  waves  about  his  shoulders  ;  his  gray  eyes 
gleamed  with  a  strange,  wild  light ;  he  moved  his  long 
arms  to  and  fro  above  his  head,  and  pointed  with  his 
thin  fingers  first  towards  the  sky,  and  then  towards 
the  sea. 

"  Hearken  ye  to  the  seer,"  said  Menelaus ;  "  he  has 
had  a  vision,  and  perchance  he  can  tell  us  how  we  shall 
fare  in  this  great  business  which  we  have  undertaken." 
226 


Heroes  in  Strange  Garb.  227 

Then  Calchas  spoke  and  said,  "Verily  I  know  not 
any  thing  of  this  matter,  save  by  the  gift  of  sooth- 
saying which  the  far-darting  Apollo  has  bestowed  upon 
me.  Yet  when  I  inquired  of  him,  this  answer  did  he 
give  :  '  Let  the  long-haired  Hellenes  make  war  upon 
Troy.  They  shall  not  prevail  against  that  city  unless 
Achilles,  the  dear  son  of  Thetis,  lead  them.'  Send 
now  for  him,  and  enlist  him  in  your  cause;  for  other- 
wise you  shall  fail,  and  the  Trojans  shall  boast  of  your 
ruin  ! " 

Having  said  these  words,  the  seer  strode  from  the 
hall,  leaving  the  hero  chiefs  alone.  For  a  time  they  sat 
in  silence,  each  pondering  the  matter  in  his  own  mind. 
Then  Agamemnon  spoke,  and  his  words  were  full  of 
anger  and  unbelief.  "Never  yet,"  said  he,  "did  Cal- 
chas prophesy  any  thing  but  ill.  He  sees  naught  but 
evil ;  and  when  we  feel  most  sure  of  success,  then  it  is 
the  joy  of  his  heart  to  foretell  failure.  Now,  after  the 
gods  have  thus  far  favored  us,  and  when  all  things  are 
in  readiness  for  the  gathering  together  of  our  forces, 
this  woful  soothsayer  comes  to  tell  us  that  without 
Achilles  we  shall  fail.  For  my  part,  I  care  little  for  his 
words,  and  am  willing  to  run  all  risks." 

"Say  not  so,"  quickly  answered  Odysseus.  "The 
old  man  speaks  as  Apollo  gives  him  utterance  ;  and  no 
man  shall  dare  put  his  judgment  in  the  scales  against 
the  foreknowledge  of  the  gods.  Let  us  seek  Achilles 
at  once,  and  persuade  him  to  join  us  in  our  league 
against  Ilios." 


228  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 


"  But  who  shall  find  him  ?  "  asked  Menelaus.  "  Two 
months  ago,  I  was  in  Iolcos  by  the  sea,  whither  I  had 
gone  to  see  old  Peleus.  I  found  that  that  aged  king 
dwelt  no  longer  in  the  ancient  city,  but  had  removed 
into  his  own  country  of  Phthia,  and  there  abode  among 
his  Myrmidons.  Into  Phthia,  therefore,  I  went,  hoping 
to  find  Achilles  also  there.  But  old  Peleus  wept  when 
I  asked  about  his  son.  '  In  truth,  I  know  not  where  the 
young  man  is,'  he  said,  in  answer  to  my  questions.  '  For 
when  the  news  was  noised  about,  that  the  chiefs  of  Hellas 
were  planning  war  upon  Troy,  then  silver-footed  Thetis 
carried  her  son  into  some  distant,  unknown  land,  and 
hid  him  there.  For  the  Fates  have  declared  the  doom 
of  Achilles,  that  his  days  on  earth  shall  be  few  but 
glorious  ;  and  his  mother  feared,  that,  should  he  join  in 
the  great  war,  he  would  meet  an  untimely  death.  Thus, 
then,  it  is  that  I  am  bereft  already  of  my  only  son ;  for 
I  know  not  whether  I  shall  ever  again  behold  him.'  In 
:his  manner  Peleus,  the  lord  of  horses,  bewailed  the 
absence  of  his  son.  And  though  in  every  city  I  sought 
news  concerning  the  whereabouts  of  the  young  hero, 
I  could  learn  nothing  whatever.  Even  Patroclus,  his 
bosom  friend  and  comrade,  wept  for  him  as  for  one 
dead.  I  do  not  believe  that  he  can  be  found  in 
Hellas." 

Then  Nestor  the  wise  arose  and  spoke.  "  It  does 
not  become  us,"  he  said,  "to  doubt  or  dispute  the  words 
of  Calchas  the  seer.  Therefore  we  must  find  Achilles, 
and  win  him  to  our  cause ;  or,  laying  aside  all  thought 


Heroes  in  Strange   Garb.  229 

of  war,  we  must  humbly  surrender  to  Paris  the  noblest 
treasure  of  our  country,  even  beauteous  Helen." 

"  Achilles  can  be  found,"  said  Odysseus.  "  I  myself 
will  seek  him,  and  the  moon  shall  not  wane  thrice  ere  I 
shall  have  found  him.  Let  the  best  ship  in  Argos  be 
put  in  readiness  at  once ;  and  let  a  crew  of  the  most 
skilful  oarsmen  be  chosen,  and  a  good  store  of  food  be 
put  into  the  hold.  I  will  embark  to-morrow,  and  you 
shall  see  me  no  more  until  I  bring  good  news  of 
Thetis's  godlike  son," 

So  then  Odysseus  set  sail  on  a  long,  uncertain  voyage 
to  the  islands  of  the  sea,  in  search  of  the  hidden 
hero.  Vainly  did  he  visit  Cythera,  the  lofty  isle  where 
Aphrodite  first  rose  in  all  her  beauty  from  the  salt 
sea-foam  ;  he  touched  at  Melos,  rich  in  corn  and  wine ; 
he  skirted  Paros,  known  to  all  the  world  for  its  figs  and 
its  spotless  marble  ;  he  stopped  for  a  month  at  sacred 
Delos,  the  birthplace  of  Apollo ;  he  explored  well- 
watered  Ophiussa,  where  serpents  curse  the  ground, 
and  grapes  grow  purple  on  the  climbing  vines ;  he 
sought  long  time  in  Andros  among  the  groves  and  in 
the  temple  sacred  to  ruddy-faced  Dionysus  :  yet  in  none 
of  these  lands  heard  he  any  news  of  the  godlike  son  of 
Peleus.  Weary  of  their  long  and  fruitless  voyage,  the 
comrades  of  Odysseus  murmured  sorely,  and  besought 
him  to  return  to  Mycenae,  and  give  up  the  search.  But 
he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  their  pleadings,  and  sailed  away 
to  Scyros,  where  old  Lycomedes  reigned.  For  the 
bright-eyed  goddess  Athen6  had  whispered  to  him  in 


230  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

a  dream,  and  told  him  that  in  the  court  of  Lycomedes 
he  would  find  the  hero  for  whom  he  sought. 

In  a  narrow  inlet,  hidden  by  trees  and  tall  reeds,  the 
ship  was  moored,  while  shrewd  Odysseus  went  alone 
and  unheralded  to  the  palace  of  the  king.  He  had  laid 
aside  his  warrior's  gear,  and  was  now  attired  in  the 
guise  of  a  wandering  peddler,  and  loaded  with  a  heavy 
pack  of  precious  wares.  And  lo  !  as  he  neared  the  high- 
built  halls  of  Lycomedes,  he  came  to  a  spacious  garden 
just  outside  of  the  courtyard,  and  hard  by  the  lofty  gate. 
A  green  hedge  ran  round  it  on  four  sides,  while  within 
grew  many  tall  trees  laden  with  fruits  and  blossoms,  — 
pear  trees,  pomegranates,  apple  trees,  and  olives.  So 
well  cared  for  were  these  trees,  that  they  yielded  fruit 
in  every  season  of  the  year,  nor  ever  failed,  even  in 
winter  time.  Beyond  these,  all  manner  of  garden  beds 
were  planted,  where  flowers  bloomed  in  never-ending 
freshness,  —  the  dewy  lotus,  the  crocus  flower,  the  pale 
hyacinth,  violets,  asphodels,  and  fair  lilies.  And  in 
their  midst,  two  springs  of  never-failing  water  gushed  : 
one  of  them  watered  the  garden  and  the  fields  beyond ; 
the  other  ran  close  by  the  threshold  of  the  palace,  and 
bubbled  up  in  the  market-square,  where  all  the  people 
came  to  fill  their  vessels.1 

As  Odysseus  stood  and  gazed  in  rapt  delight  upon 
this  scene  of  beauty,  a  party  of  happy  maidens  came 
through  the  courtyard,  and  stopped  in  the  garden  to 
pluck  the  fruits  and  flowers.     Then  on  the  open  lawn, 

*  See  Note  14  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


Heroes  in  Strange  Garb.  231 

they  fell  to  playing  ball ;  and  one  among  them  sang  a 
lightsome  song  as  they  tossed  the  missile  to  and  fro,  or 
danced  with  happy  feet  upon  the  smooth-mown  sward. 
When  they  saw  Odysseus  standing  in  the  path,  they 
stopped  their  game,  and  stood  silent  in  their  places, 
scarce  knowing  whether  to  advance  and  greet  the 
stranger  kindly,  or  in  girlish  timidness  to  flee  into  the 
palace.  The  hero  opened  then  his  peddler's  pack,  and 
held  up  to  their  delighted  gaze  a  golden  necklace  set 
with  amber  beads.  No  further  thought  of  flight  had 
the  maidens  now.  With  eager  yet  hesitating  feet,  they 
came  crowding  around  him,  anxious  to  see  what  other 
thing  of  beauty  he  had  brought  with  him.  One  by 
one,  he  showed  them  all  his  treasures,  —  ear-rings, 
bracelets  of  finest  workmanship,  clasps,  buckles,  head- 
bands, and  golden  hair-pins.  These  they  took  in  their 
hands,  and,  passing  them  from  one  to  another,  eagerly 
debated  the  price.  One  only  of  the  company,  taller  and 
nobler  than  the  others,  stood  aloof,  and  seemed  to  care 
nothing  for  the  rich  and  handsome  ornaments.  Odysseus 
noticed  this,  but  shrewdly  kept  his  counsels  to  himself. 

"A  merchant  like  myself,"  said  he,  "must  needs 
have  goods  for  all,  —  for  the  young  as  well  as  for  the 
old,  for  the  grave  as  well  as  for  the  gay,  for  the  hero  as 
well  as  for  the  lady.  It  is  his  duty  no  less  than  his 
delight  to  please." 

With  these  words  he  laid  before  the  maidens  a 
sword  with  hilt  most  deftly  carved,  a  dagger  with  long 
keen  blade,  and  a  helmet  thickly  inlaid  with  precious 


232  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

gems.  The  one  who  had  not  cared  to  look  at  the 
trinkets  now  started  quickly  as  if  a  trumpet  had  blown  ; 
she  took  up  the  sword,  and  handled  it  like  a  warrior  long 
used  to  weapons ;  she  tested  the  edge  of  the  dagger, 
and  sounded  the  strength  of  the  helmet.  Odysseus  had 
learned  all  that  he  wished  to  know.  He  thought  no 
more  of  the  ornaments,  —  the  bracelets,  the  clasps,  and 
the  hair-pins,  —  but  gave  them  to  the  maidens  for  any 
price  that  they  chose  to  offer.  When  all  were  pleased 
and  satisfied,  he  turned  to  that  one  still  toying  with  the 
sword,  and  said  sharply,  — 

"Achilles!" 

Had  an  earthquake  shaken  the  isle  of  Scyros  at  that 
moment,  Achilles  would  not  have  been  more  startled. 
For  the  tall,  fair  body,  clad  in  a  maiden's  robes,  was 
none  other  than  that  long-sought  hero. 

"  Achilles,"  again  said  Odysseus,  "  I  know  thee,  and 
it  is  useless  to  struggle  longer  against  thy  destiny.  Put 
off  that  unbecoming  garb,  and  come  with  me.  Thy 
countrymen  need  thee  to  aid  them  in  waging  bitter  war 
against  Troy." 

Then  he  told  to  the  listening  hero  the  story  of  the 
great  wrong  which  Paris  had  done,  —  the  unbearable 
insult  which  he  had  put  upon  the  folk  of  Hellas.  No 
man  ever  used  words  more  persuasive.  When  he  had 
ended,  Achilles  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  said, 
"  Odysseus,  truly  do  I  know  the  destiny  which  is  mine, 
and  it  behooves  no  man  to  struggle  long  against  the 
doom  which  has  been  allotted  to  him.     For  the  gods 


Heroes  in  Strange   Garb.  233 

ordain  that  man  should  live  in  pain,  while  they  them- 
selves are  sorrowless.  You  have  heard  it  said,  how  on 
the  threshold  of  Zeus  there  stand  two  caskets  full  of 
gifts  to  men.  One  casket  holds  the  evil,  and  one  the 
good ;  and  to  whomsoever  is  dealt  a  mingled  lot,  upon 
him  misfortunes  sometimes  fall,  and  sometimes  bless- 
ings. So  it  is  with  me  and  with  my  father's  house. 
For  upon  Peleus  were  bestowed  rich  gifts,  even  from 
his  birth,  and  he  excelled  all  other  men  in  good  fortune 
and  in  wealth ;  and  he  was  king  over  the  Myrmidons ; 
and  to  him  was  given  a  sea-nymph  for  a  wife,  even 
Thetis,  my  goddess-mother.  Yet,  with  all  the  good, 
sorrow  has  come  upon  him  in  his  old  age ;  for  in  his 
halls  there  are  no  kingly  sons  to  gladden  his  heart  and 
hold  up  his  hands.1  I  am  his  only  son,  and  of  me  it  has 
been  written  that  I  am  doomed  to  an  untimely  death ; 
and  it  was  for  this  that  silver-footed  Thetis  brought  me 
hither  across  the  sea,  and,  clothing  me  in  maidenly 
attire,  left  me  to  serve  in  Lycomedes'  pleasant  halls. 
But  I  tire  of  life  like  this.  I  would  rather  die  to- 
morrow, a  hero  in  some  grand  struggle,  than  live  a 
hundred  years  among  these  soft  delights.  I  will  sail 
with  you  at  once  for  Phthia,  where  my  father  sits, 
already  bereaved,  in  his  spacious  halls.  There  I  will 
summon  my  Myrmidons,  and  my  best-loved  friend 
Patroclus  ;  and  then  with  eager  hearts  we  will  hasten  to 
join  our  countrymen  in  war  against  the  Trojan  power." 

1  See  Note  15  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


234  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

-■■■—■—         I,-.  — ■  m 

Thus,  then,  did  Odysseus  perform  his  quest,  and  thus 
the  last  and  greatest  ally  was  won  to  the  Hellenic 
cause.  And  yet  the  war  was  long  delayed.  Many 
times  did  the  moon  wax  and  wane ;  and  seed-time  and 
harvest,  and  fruit-gathering,  and  the  storms  of  winter, 
came  again  and  again  in  their  turn,  —  and  still  the 
heroes  were  unready  to  join  their  forces  and  enter  upon 
the  mighty  struggle. 

At  length,  however,  after  nearly  ten  years  had  passed, 
all  the  princes  and  warriors  of  Hellas  gathered  their 
ships  and  men  together  at  Aulis,  and  along  the  shores 
of  the  Euripus.  A  thousand  dark-hulled  vessels  were 
moored  in  the  strait ;  and  a  hundred  thousand  brave 
men  were  on  board,  ready  to  follow  their  leaders 
whithersoever  they  should  order. 

Chief  of  all  that  host  was  mighty  Agamemnon,  king 
of  men,  bearing  the  sceptre  of  Mycenae,  which  He- 
phaestus, long  before,  had  wrought  most  wondrously. 
He  was  clad  in  flashing  armor,  and  his  mind  was  filled 
with  overweening  pride  when  he  thought  how  high  he 
stood  among  the  warriors,  and  that  his  men  were  the 
goodliest  and  bravest  of  all  that  host. 

Next  to  him  was  Menelaus,  silent  and  discreet,  by  no 
means  skilled  above  his  fellows,  and  yet,  by  reason  of 
his  noble  heart,  beloved  and  honored  by  all  the  Greeks  ; 
and  it  was  to  avenge  his  wrongs  that  this  mighty  array 
of  men  and  ships  had  been  gathered  together. 

Odysseus  came  next,  shrewd  in  counsels,  and  no 
longer  an  unwilling  hero  ;  but,  earnest  and  active,  he 


Heroes  in  Strange  Garb.  235 

moved  among  the  men  and  ships,  inspiring  all  with  zeal 
and  courage.  He  wore  upon  his  shoulders  a  thick 
purple  mantle,  clasped  with  a  golden  brooch  of  curious 
workmanship,  which  Penelope  had  given  to  him  as  a 
parting  gift.  Around  his  waist  was  a  shining  tunic, 
soft  and  smooth,  and  bright  as  the  sunshine.  With 
him,  wherever  he  went,  was  his  herald  and  armor- 
bearer,  Eurybates,  —  a  hunchbacked,  brown-skinned, 
curly-haired  man,  whom  Odysseus  held  in  high  esteem 
because  of  his  rare  good  sense. 

There,  also,  was  young  Achilles,  tall  and  handsome, 
and  swift  of  foot.  His  long  hair  fell  about  his  shoulders 
like  a  shower  of  gold,  and  his  gray  eyes  gleamed  like 
those  of  the  mountain  eagle.  By  the  shore  lay  his  trim 
ships  —  fifty  in  all  —  with  thousands  of  gallant  Myrmi- 
dons on  board.  And  ever  at  his  side  was  his  bosom 
friend  and  comrade,  Patroclus,  the  son  of  Menoitios. 
He  it  was  to  whom  old  Peleus  had  said  when  they  were 
about  embarking  for  Aulis,  "  Thou  art  older  than  my 
child  Achilles,  but  he  is  nobler  born  and  mightier  far 
in  warlike  deeds.  But  thou  art  wise  and  prudent ; 
therefore,  do  thou  speak  gentle  words  of  warning  to 
him,  and  show  him  what  is  best  to  do :  he  will  hearken 
to  thy  words  spoken  for  his  good." 

There  also  was  Ajax,  the  valiant  son  of  Telamon, 
huge  in  body  and  slow  in  speech,  but,  next  to  Achilles, 
the  bravest  of  all  the  host.  And  the  other  Ajax,  clad 
in  his  linen  corslet,  and  master  of  forty  ships  from 
Locris,  moved  also  among  the  mightiest  of  the  heroes. 


236  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

There,  too,  was  Nestor,  the  aged  king  of  Pylos,  rich 
in  wisdom  and  experience,  and  skilled  in  persuasive 
speech.  With  him  was  his  son  Antilochus,  the  quon- 
dam suitor  of  fair  Helen,  a  warrior  worthy  of  such  a 
sire. 

And  there  was  Idomeneus,  the  stalwart  chief  who 
ruled  the  hundred  cities  of  Crete,  and  was  the  sworn 
friend  of  Menelaus.  And  there  was  Philoctetes,  the 
cunning  archer,  carrying  the  great  bow  which  had  been 
given  him  for  his  last  sad  act  of  friendship  to  his 
master,  Heracles.  And  there  was  Diomede,  of  the 
loud  war-cry,  wearing  the  skin  of  a  great  fiery  lion 
round  his  shoulders,  and  marshalling  the  warriors  who 
had  come  with  him  from  Argos,  and  Tiryns  of  the 
mighty  walls.  And  there,  too,  among  so  many  others 
of  far  greater  worth,  was  Nireus  of  Syma,  his  well-oiled 
locks  as  neatly  curled,  and  his  linen  as  spotlessly  white, 
as  when  in  youth  he  had  sued  for  Helen's  hand  in  the 
court  of  old  Tyndareus. 

Now  when  the  day  had  come  for  the  fleet  to  sail,  the 
chiefs  stood  upon  the  shore,  and  offered  solemn  sacri- 
fices to  Poseidon,  and  prayed  the  gods  to  prosper  them 
in  their  undertaking  and  bring  them  safe  again  to  their 
loved  homes  in  Hellas.  While  they  were  burning  the 
choicest  bits  of  fat  and  flesh,  behold,  a  strange  thing 
happened  !  From  a  crevice  in  the  rocks  a  shining  ser- 
pent, with  glittering  cold  eyes  and  forked  tongue,  came 
creeping  silently  into  the  sunlight.  The  heroes  gazed 
upon  it  with  wonder  in  their  faces,  for  they  knew  that 


Heroes  in  Strange  Garb.  237 

it  was  sent  as  a  sign  to  them.  Not  far  away  stood  a 
plane-tree,  green  with  foliage,  in  which  a  bird  had  built 
her  nest ;  and  in  the  nest  were  nine  tiny  fledglings, 
tenderly  cared  for  by  the  mother  bird.  Straight  to  this 
tree  the  serpent  crept ;  it  twined  around  the  trunk,  and 
stealthily  climbed  to  the  nest ;  it  seized  the  helpless 
little  ones  in  its  fangs  and  devoured  them ;  then  it 
darted  upon  the  distressed  mother  bird,  and  destroyed 
her  most  pitilessly.  But  now  a  gleam  of  lightning 
flashed  across  the  sky,  and  a  peal  of  thunder  shook  the 
earth  and  sea.  When  the  astonished  chiefs  looked  up 
again,  behold,  the  serpent  had  been  turned  into  stone. 

"  Call  Calchas  the  seer,  and  let  him  tell  us  what  this 
portends  !  "  they  cried. 

Then  Calchas,  his  long  hair  streaming  in  the  wind, 
his  wild  eyes  rolling  in  awe,  his  gaunt  arms  waving  to 
and  fro  above  his  head,  came  and  looked  upon  the 
wonder. 

"  Ye  men  of  Hellas  !  "  he  cried,  "  I  will  tell  you  what 
this  portends.  As  there  were  nine  birds  in  the  nest,  ye 
shall  war  nine  years  against  Troy,  and  shall  not  prevail ; 
but,  even  as  the  serpent  destroyed  the  mother  bird,  so 
in  the  tenth  year  shall  the  city  and  its  god-built  walls 
fall  into  your  hands." 


ADVENTURE  XX. 


BECALMED   AT   AULIS. 

A  pleasant  wind  from  the  west  sprang  up,  and 
drove  the  great  fleet  out  into  the  sea.  Not  a  single 
one  of  the  thousand  ships  was  lost  or  left  behind  ; 
and  after  a  quick  and  happy  voyage,  they  came  in 
sight  of  a  fruitful  land  and  a  great  city  with  high 
towers  and  pleasant  dwellings. 

"The  gods  have  favored  us,  even  beyond  what  we 
asked  !  "  cried  the  Hellenes. 

Achilles  and  his  Myrmidons  landed  first,  and  with- 
out waiting  for  the  other  ships  to  come  up,  they  rushed 
across  the  plain,  and  began  an  assault  upon  the  town. 
Like  a  swarm  of  locusts  lighting  down  upon  a  field 
of  grain,  and  consuming  every  thing  before  them,  so 
came  the  destroying  Hellenes.  The  gates  were  broken 
down  ;  the  astonished  people  fled  in  dismay,  and  sought 
safety  among  the  hills  and  in  the  forest  on  the  other 
side  of  the  town.  Not  until  many  houses  had  been 
burned,  and  many  people  slain,  did  Odysseus  and 
Menelaus,  whose  ships  had  been  delayed,  reach  the 
place. 

*3» 


Becalmed  at  Aulis.  239 

"  Men  of  Hellas ! "  they  cried,  hastening  into  the 
midst  of  the  carnage.  "  What  is  this  you  are  doing  ? 
This  is  not  Troy.  It  is  the  peaceful  city  of  Teuthrania 
in  Mysia.  Cease  your  slaughter,  and  return  at  once 
to  your  vessels,  lest  the  wrath  of  the  gods  fall  upon 
you." 

The  word  was  carried  from  mouth  to  mouth ;  and 
the  hasty  heroes,  crestfallen  and  ashamed,  stopped 
their  bloody  work,  and  turned  their  faces  back  towards 
the  shore  where  their  ships  lay  beached.  None  too 
soon  did  they  retreat ;  for  the  king  of  Mysia,  one 
Telephus  a  son  of  Heracles,  having  quickly  called  his 
warriors  together,  fell  upon  their  rear,  and  slew  great 
numbers  of  them,  following  them  even  to  the  sloping 
beach.  As  the  last  ship  was  pushing  out,  an  arrow 
from  the  bow  of  King  Telephus  struck  Patroclus, 
wounding  him  sorely.  Then  Achilles,  poising  his  long 
spear,  threw  it  with  deadly  aim  among  the  Mysians ; 
it  struck  King  Telephus,  and  laid  him  senseless  though 
not  slain  upon  the  sandy  plain. 

No  sooner  had  the  fleet  set  sail  again  upon  the  sea, 
than  Poseidon  stirred  up  the  waves  in  anger,  and 
loosed  the  winds  upon  them.  Great  was  the  terror, 
and  great  indeed  was  the  destruction.  Some  of  the 
ships  were  sunk  in  mid-sea,  and  some  were  driven 
upon  the  rocks  and  wrecked.  But  the  greater  number 
of  them,  after  days  and  weeks  of  buffeting  with  the 
waves,  made  their  way  back  to  Aulis. 

When  the  heroes  stood  again  on  the  shores  of  the 


240  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

Euripus,  they  began  to  think  that  doubtless  there  was 
some  truth  in  the  omen  of  the  snake  and  the  birds ; 
and  the  most  hopeful  among  them  ceased  to  dream 
of  taking  Troy  in  a  day.  While  waiting  for  stragglers 
to  come  in,  and  for  the  shattered  vessels  to  be  repaired, 
they  found  enough  to  do  to  keep  the  time  from  drag- 
ging heavily ;  and  when  not  engage  in  some  kind  of 
labor  they  amused  themselves  with  various  games, 
and  great  sport  had  they  with  quoits  and  javelins, 
with  bows  and  arrows,  and  in  wrestling  and  running. 
And  now  and  then  they  went  out  into  the  woods  of 
Euboea,  and  hunted  the  wild  deer  which  roamed  there 
in  abundance. 

One  day  it  chanced  that  Agamemnon,  while  hunting, 
started  a  fine  stag,  and  gave  it  a  long  chase  among  the 
hills  and  through  the  wooded  dells,  until  it  sought 
safety  in  a  grove  sacred  to  Artemis  the  huntress  queen. 
The  proud  king  knew  that  this  was  a  holy  place  where 
beasts  and  birds  might  rest  secure  from  harm ;  yet 
he  cared  naught  for  what  Artemis  had  ordained,  and 
with  his  swift  arrows  he  slew  the  panting  deer.  Then 
was  the  huntress  queen  moved  with  anger,  and  she 
declared  that  the  ships  of  the  Hellenes  should  not  sail 
from  Aulis  until  the  king  had  atoned  for  his  crime. 
And  a  great  calm  rested  upon  the  sea,  and  not  a 
breath  of  air  stirred  the  sails  at  the  mast-heads  of  the 
ships.  Day  after  day  and  week  after  week  went  by, 
and  not  a  speck  of  cloud  was  seen  in  the  sky  above, 
and  not  a  ripple  on  the  glassy  face  of  the  deep.     All 


Becalmed  at  Aulis.  241 

the  ships  had  been  put  in  order,  new  vessels  had  been 
built,  the  warriors  had  burnished  their  armor  and  over- 
hauled their  arms  a  thousand  times  ;  and  yet  no  breeze 
arose  to  waft  them  across  the  sea.  And  they  began 
to  murmur,  and  to  talk  bitterly  against  Agamemnon 
and  the  chiefs. 

In  the  mean  while,  a  small  vessel  driven  by  rowers 
came  up  the  Euripus,  and  stopped  among  the  ships  at 
Aulis.  On  board  of  it  was  King  Telephus  of  Mysia, 
sorely  suffering  from  the  wound  which  Achilles  had 
given  him  on  the  Teuthranian  beach.  He  had  come  to 
seek  the  hero  who  had  wounded  him,  for  an  oracle  had 
told  him  that  he  only  could  heal  the  grievous  hurt. 
Achilles  carried  the  sufferer  to  his  tent,  and  skilfully 
dressed  the  wound,  and  bound  it  up  with  healing  herbs  ; 
for  in  his  boyhood  he  had  learned  from  wise  old  Cheiron 
how  to  treat  such  ailments,  and  now  that  knowledge 
was  of  great  use  to  him.  And  soon  the  king  was 
whole  and  strong  again ;  and  he  vowed  that  he  would 
not  leave  Achilles,  but  would  stay  with  the  Hellenes, 
and  pilot  them  across  the  sea  to  Troy.  Yet  the  wrath 
of  Artemis  continued,  and  not  the  slightest  breeze 
arose  to  cool  the  air,  or  fill  the  waiting  sails  of  the 
ships. 

At  last  Agamemnon  sent  for  Calchas  the  soothsayer, 
and  asked  him  in  secret  how  the  anger  of  the  huntress 
queen  might  be  assuaged.  And  the  soothsayer  with 
tears  and  lamentations  answered  that  in  no  wise  could 
it   be   done   save   by  the   sacrifice  to  Artemis  of  his 


242  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

maiden  daughter  Iphigenia.  Then  the  king  cried 
aloud  in  his  grief,  and  declared  that  though  Troy  might 
stand  forever,  he  would  not  do  that  thing ;  and  he  bade 
a  herald  go  through  the  camp,  and  among  the  ships, 
and  bid  every  man  depart  as  he  chose  to  his  own  coun- 
try.  But  before  the  herald  had  gone  from  his  tent, 
behold  his  brother  Menelaus,  the  wronged  husband  of 
fair  Helen,  stood  before  him  with  downcast  eyes  and 
saddest  of  hearts. 

"After  ten  years  of  labor  and  hope,"  said  he  to 
Agamemnon,  "wouldst  thou  give  up  this  enterprise, 
and  lose  all  ? " 

Then  Odysseus  came  also  into  the  tent,  and  added 
his  persuasions  to  those  of  Menelaus.  And  the  king 
hearkened  to  him,  for  no  man  was  more  crafty  in  coun- 
sel ;  and  the  three  recalled  the  herald,  and  formed  a 
plan  whereby  they  might  please  Artemis  by  doing  as 
she  desired.  And  Agamemnon,  in  his  weakness,  wrote 
a  letter  to  Clytemnestra  his  queen,  telling  her  to  bring 
the  maiden  Iphigenia  to  Aulis,  there  to  be  wedded  to 
King  Achilles.  "  Fail  not  in  this,"  added  he,  "for  the 
godlike  hero  will  not  sail  with  us  unless  my  daughter  be 
given  to  him  in  marriage."  And  when  he  had  written 
the  letter,  he  sealed  it,  and  sent  it  by  a  swift  mes- 
senger to  Clytemnestra  at  Mycenae. 

Nevertheless  the  king's  heart  was  full  of  sorrow,  and 
when  he  was  alone  he  planned  how  he  might  yet  save 
his  daughter.  Night  came,  but  he  could  not  sleep ;  he 
walked  the  floor  of  his  tent ;  he  wept  and  lamented  like 


Becalmed  at  Aulis.  243 

one  bereft  of  reason.  At  length  he  sat  down,  and 
wrote  another  letter:  "  Daughter  of  Leda,  send  not  thy 
child  to  Aulis,  for  I  will  give  her  in  marriage  at  another 
time,"  Then  he  called  another  messenger,  an  old  and 
trusted  servant  of  the  household,  and  put  this  letter 
into  his  hands. 

"Take  this  with  all  haste  to  my  queen,  who,  per- 
chance, is  even  now  on  her  way  to  Aulis.  Stop  not  by 
any  cool  spring  in  the  groves,  and  let  not  thine  eyes 
close  for  sleep.  And  see  that  the  chariot  bearing  the 
queen  and  Iphigenia  pass  thee  not  unnoticed." 

The  messenger  took  the  letter,  and  hasted  away. 
But  hardly  had  he  passed  the  line  of  the  tents  when 
Menelaus  saw  him,  and  took  the  letter  from  him.  And 
when  he  had  read  it,  he  went  before  his  brother,  and 
reproached  him  with  bitter  words. 

u Before  you  were  chosen  captain  of  the  host,"  said 
he,  "you  were  kind  and  gentle,  and  the  friend  of  every 
man.  There  was  nothing  that  you  would  not  do  to  aid 
your  fellows.  Now  you  are  puffed  up  with  pride  and 
vain  conceit,  and  care  nothing  even  for  those  who  are 
your  equals  in  power.  Yet,  for  all,  you  are  not  rid  of 
your  well-known  cowardice ;  and  when  you  saw  that  your 
leadership  was  likely  to  be  taken  away  from  you  unless 
you  obeyed  the  commands  of  Artemis,  you  agreed  to 
do  this  thing.  Now  you  are  trying  to  break  your  word, 
sending  secretly  to  your  wife,  and  bidding  her  not  to 
bring  her  daughter  to  Aulis." 

Then   Agamemnon   answered,   "Why  should   I   de- 


244  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

stroy  my  daughter  in  order  to  win  back  thy  wife  ?  Let 
the  suitors  who  swore  an  oath  to  King  Tyndareus  go 
with  thee.     In  what  way  am  I  bound  to  serve  thee  ? " 

"  Do  as  you  will,"  said  Menelaus,  going  away  in 
wrath. 

Soon  after  this,  there  came  a  herald  to  the  king, 
saying,  "  Behold,  your  daughter  Iphigenia  has  come  as 
you  directed,  and  with  her  mother  and  her  little  brother 
Orestes  she  rests  by  the  spring  close  to  the  outer  line 
of  tents.  And  the  warriors  have  gathered  around  them, 
and  are  praising  her  loveliness,  and  asking  many  ques- 
tions ;  and  some  say,  '  The  king  is  sick  to  see  his 
daughter  whom  he  loves  so  deeply,  and  he  has  made  up 
some  excuse  to  bring  her  to  the  camp.'  But  I  know 
why  you  have  brought  her  here ;  for  I  have  been  told 
about  the  wedding,  and  the  noble  groom  who  is  to 
lead  her  in  marriage;  and  we  will  rejoice  and  be  glad, 
because  this  is  a  happy  day  for  the  maiden." 

Then  the  king  was  sorely  distressed,  and  knew  not 
what  to  do.  "Sad,  sad  indeed,"  said  he,  "is  the 
wedding  to  which  the  maiden  cometh.  For  the  name 
of  the  bridegroom  is  Death." 

At  the  same  time  Menelaus  came  back,  sorrowful 
and  repentant.  "You  were  right,  my  brother,"  said 
he.  "What,  indeed,  has  Iphigenia  to  do  with  Helen, 
and  why  should  the  maiden  die  for  me  ?  Send  the 
Hellenes  to  their  homes,  and  let  not  this  great  wrong 
be  done." 

"  But  how  can  I  do  that  now  ?  "  asked  Agamemnon. 


Becalmed  at  Aulis.  245 

"  The  warriors,  urged  on  by  Odysseus  and  Calchas, 
will  force  me  to  do  the  deed.  Or,  if  I  flee  to  Mycenae, 
they  will  follow  me,  and  slay  me,  and  destroy  my  city. 
Oh,  woe  am  I,  that  such  a  day  should  ever  dawn  upon 
my  sight !  " 

Even  while  they  spoke  together,  the  queen's  chariot 
drove  up  to  the  tent  door,  and  the  queen  and  Iphigenia 
and  the  little  Orestes  alighted  quickly,  and  merrily 
greeted  the  king. 

"It  is  well  that  you  have  sent  for  me,  my  father," 
said  Iphigenia,  caressing  him. 

"  It  may  be  well,  and  yet  it  may  not,"  said  Agamem- 
non. "  I  am  exceeding  glad  to  see  thee  alive  and 
happy." 

"  If  you  are  glad,  why  then  do  you  weep  ?  " 

"  I  am  sad  because  thou  wilt  be  so  long  time  away 
from  me." 

"  Are  you  going  on  a  very  long  voyage,  father  ?  " 

"  A  long  voyage  and  a  sad  one,  my  child.  And  thou, 
also,  hast  a  journey  to  make." 

"  Must  I  make  it  alone,  or  will  my  mother  go  with 
me?" 

"Thou  must  make  it  alone.  Neither  father  nor 
mother  nor  any  friend  can  go  with  thee,  my  child." 

"  But  when  shall  it  be  ?  I  pray  that  you  will  hasten 
this  matter  with  Troy,  and  return  home  ere  then." 

"  It  may  be  so.  But  I  must  offer  a  sacrifice  to  the 
gods,  before  we  sail  from  Aulis." 

"  That  is  well.     And  may  I  be  present  I  " 


246  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

"Yes,  and  thou  shalt  be  very  close  to  the  altar." 

"  Shall  I  lead  in  the  dances,  father  ? " 

Then  the  king  could  say  no  more,  for  reason  of  the 
great  sorrow  within  him  ;  and  he  kissed  the  maiden, 
and  sent  her  into  the  tent.  A  little  while  afterward, 
the  queen  came  and  spoke  to  him,  and  asked  him  about 
the  man  to  whom  their  daughter  was  to  be  wedded ; 
and  Agamemnon,  still  dissembling,  told  her  that  the 
hero's  name  was  Achilles,  and  that  he  was  the  son  of 
old  Peleus  and  the  sea-nymph  Thetis. 

"  And  when  and  where  is  the  marriage  to  be  ? " 
asked  the  queen. 

"  On  the  first  lucky  day  in  the  present  moon,  and 
here  in  our  camp  at  Aulis,"  answered  Agamemnon. 

"  Shall  I  stay  here  with  thee  until  then  ? " 

"Nay,  thou  must  go  back  to  Mycenae  without  delay." 

"  But  may  I  not  come  again  ?  If  I  am  not  here,  who 
will  hold  up  the  torch  for  the  bride  ?  " 

"  I  will  attend  to  all  such  matters,"  answered  Aga- 
memnon. 

But  Clytemnestra  was  not  well  pleased,  neither 
could  the  king  persuade  her  at  all  that  she  should 
return  to  Mycenae.  While  yet  they  were  talking, 
Achilles  himself  came  to  the  tent  door,  and  said  aloud 
to  the  servant  who  kept  it,  "Tell  thy  master  that 
Achilles,  the  son  of  Peleus,  would  be  pleased  to  see 
him." 

When  Clytemnestra  overheard  these  words,  she 
hastened  to  the  door,  and  offered  the  hero  her  hand. 


Becalmed  at  Aulis.  247 

But  he  was  ashamed  and  drew  back,  for  it  was  deemed 
an  unseemly  thing  for  men  to  speak  thus  with  women. 
Then  Clytemnestra  said,  "Why,  indeed,  should  you, 
who  are  about  to  marry  my  daughter,  be  ashamed  to 
give  me  your  hand  ? " 

Achilles  was  struck  with  wonder,  and  asked  her 
what  she  meant ;  and  when  she  had  explained  the 
matter,  he  said,  — 

"  Truly  I  have  never  been  a  suitor  for  thy  daughter, 
neither  has  Agamemnon  or  Menelaus  spoken  a  word 
to  me  regarding  her." 

And  now  the  queen  was  astonished  in  her  turn,  and 
cried  out  with  shame  that  she  had  been  so  cruelly 
deceived.  Then  the  keeper  of  the  door,  who  was  the 
same  that  had  been  sent  with  the  letter,  came  forward 
and  told  the  truth  regarding  the  whole  matter.  And 
Clytemnestra  cried  to  Achilles,  "O  son  of  the  silver- 
footed  Thetis !  Help  me  and  help  my  daughter  Iphi- 
genia,  in  this  time  of  sorest  need !  For  we  have  no 
friend  in  all  this  host,  and  none  in  whom  we  can  con- 
fide but  thee." 

Achilles  answered,  "  Long  time  ago  I  was  a  pupil 
of  old  Cheiron  the  most  righteous  of  men,  and  from 
him  I  learned  to  be  honest  and  true.  If  Agamemnon 
rule  according  to  right,  then  I  will  obey  him  ;  but  not 
otherwise.  And  now  since  thy  daughter  was  brought 
to  this  place  under  pretence  of  giving  her  to  me  as 
my  bride,  I  will  see  that  she  shall  not  be  slain,  neither 
shall  any  one  dare  take  her  from  me." 


248  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 


On  the  following  day,  while  Agamemnon  sat  grief- 
stricken  in  his  tent,  the  maiden  came  before  him 
carrying  the  babe  Orestes  in  her  arms  ;  and  she  cast 
herself  upon  her  knees  at  his  feet,  and  caressing  his 
hands,  she  thus  besought  him  :  "  Would,  dear  father, 
that  I  had  the  voice  of  Orpheus,  to  whom  even 
the  rocks  did  listen !  then  I  would  persuade  thee. 
O  father !  I  am  thy  child.  I  was  the  first  to  call 
thee  '  Father,'  and  the  first  to  whom  thou  saidst  '  My 
child.'  " 

The  father  turned  his  face  away,  and  wept ;  he  could 
not  speak  for  sadness.  Then  the  maiden  went  on : 
"  O,  father,  hear  me !  thou  to  whom  my  voice  was 
once  so  sweet  that  thou  wouldst  waken  me  to  hear 
my  prattle  amid  the  songs  of  birds  when  it  was  mean- 
ingless as  theirs.  And  wb°n  I  was  older  grown,  then 
thou  wouldst  say  to  me,  '  Some  day,  my  birdling,  thou 
shalt  have  a  nest  of  thy  own,  a  home  of  which 
thou  shalt  be  the  mistress.'  And  I  did  answer,  'Yes, 
dear  father,  and  when  thou  art  old  I  will  care  for 
thee,  and  pay  thee  with  all  my  heart  for  the  kindness, 
thou  dost  show  me.'  But  now  thou  hast  forgotten  it 
all,  and  art  ready  to  slay  my  young  life." 

A  deep  groan  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  mighty 
king,  but  he  spoke  not  a  word.  Then  after  a  death- 
like silence  broken  only  by  the  deep  breathings  of 
father  and  child,  Iphigenia  spoke  again :  "  My  father, 
can  there  be  any  prayer  more  pure  and  more  persua- 
sive than  that  of  a  maiden  for  her  father's  welfare? 


Becalmed  at  Aulis.  249 

and  when  the  cruel  knife  shall  strike  me  down,  thou 
wilt  have  one  daughter  less  to  pray  for  thee."  A 
shudder  shook  the  frame  of  Agamemnon,  but  he  an- 
swered not  a  word. 

At  that  moment  Achilles  entered.  He  had  come 
in  haste  from  the  tents  beside  the  shore,  and  he 
spoke  in  hurried,  anxious  accents. 

"Behold,"  said  he,  "a  great  tumult  has  arisen  in 
the  camp ;  for  Calchas  has  given  out  among  the  men 
that  you  refuse  to  do  what  Artemis  has  bidden,  and 
that  hence  these  delays  and  troubles  have  arisen. 
And  the  rude  soldiers  are  crying  out  against  you,  and 
declaring  that  the  maiden  must  die.  When  I  would 
have  stayed  their  anger,  they  took  up  stones  to  stone 
me, — my  own  Myrmidons  among  the  rest.  And  now 
they  are  making  ready  to  move  upon  your  tent,  threat- 
ening to  sacrifice  you  also  with  your  daughter.  But 
I  will  fight  for  you  to  the  utmost,  and  the  maiden 
shall  not  die." 

As  he  was  speaking,  Calchas  entered,  and,  grasping 
the  wrist  of  the  pleading  maiden,  lifted  her  to  her 
feet.  She  looked  up,  and  saw  his  stony  face  and 
hard  cold  eyes  ;  and  turning  again  to  Agamemnon,  she 
said,  "  O  father,  the  ships  shall  sail,  for  I  will  die  for 
thee." 

Then  Achilles  said  to  her,  "  Fair  maiden,  thou  art 
by  far  the  noblest  and  most  lovely  of  thy  sex.  Fain 
would  I  save  thee  from  this  fate,  even  though  every 
man  in  Hellas  be  against  me.     Fly  with  me  quickly  to 


250  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

my  long-oared  galley,  and  I  will  carry  thee  safely  away 
from  this  accursed  place." 

"  Not  so,"  answered  Iphigenia :  "  I  will  give  up  my 
life  for  my  father  and  this  land  of  the  Hellenes,  and 
no  man  shall  suffer  for  me." 

And  the  pitiless  priest  led  her  through  the  throng 
of  rude  soldiers,  to  the  grove  of  Artemis,  wherein  an 
altar  had  been  built.  But  Achilles  and  Agamemnon 
covered  their  faces  with  their  mantles,  and  staid  in- 
side the  tent.  Then  Talthybius  the  herald  stood  up, 
and  bade  the  warriors  keep  silence  ;  and  Calchas  put  a 
garland  of  sweet-smelling  flowers  about  the  victim's 
head. 

"  Let  no  man  touch  me,"  said  the  maiden,  "  for  I 
offer  my  neck  to  the  sword  with  right  good  will,  that 
so  my  father  may  live  and  prosper." 

In  silence  and  great  awe,  the  warriors  stood  around, 
while  Calchas  drew  a  sharp  knife  from  its  scabbard. 
But,  lo !  as  he  struck,  the  maiden  was  not  there  ;  and 
in  her  stead,  a  noble  deer  lay  dying  on  the  altar.  Then 
the  old  soothsayer  cried  out  in  triumphant  tones,  "See 
now,  ye  men  of  Hellas,  how  the  gods  have  provided  for 
you  a  sacrifice,  and  saved  the  innocent  daughter  of  the 
king  !  "  And  all  the  people  shouted  with  joy  ;  and  in 
that  self-same  hour,  a  strong  breeze  came  down  the 
Euripus,  and  filled  the  idle  sails  of  the  waiting  ships. 

"  To  Troy  !  to  Troy  ! "  cried  the  Hellenes  ;  and  every 
man  hastened  aboard  his  vessel. 

How  it  was  that  fair  Iphigenia  escaped  the  knife  ; 


Becalmed  at  Aulis.  251 

by  whom  she  was  saved,  or  whither  she  went,  —  no  one 
knew.  Some  say  that  Artemis  carried  her  away  to  the 
land  of  the  Taurians,  where  she  had  a  temple  and  an 
altar ;  and  that,  long  years  afterward,  her  brother 
Orestes  found  her  there,  and  bore  her  back  to  her  girl- 
hood's home,  even  to  Mycenae.  But  whether  this  be 
true  or  not,  I  know  that  there  have  been  maidens  as 
noble,  as  loving,  as  innocent  as  she,  who  have  given  up 
their  lives  in  order  to  make  this  world  a  purer  and 
happier  place  in  which  to  live ;  and  these  are  not  dead, 
but  live  in  the  grateful  memories  of  those  whom  they 
loved  and  saved. 


ADVENTURE  XXI. 


THE    LONG   SIEGE. 

The  great  fleet  sailed  once  more  across  the  sea, 
piloted  now  by  Telephus,  the  king  of  Mysia ;  and  the 
ships  of  Achilles  and  those  of  Philoctetes  of  Melibcea 
led  all  the  rest.  When  they  had  put  a  little  more  than 
half  the  distance  behind  them,  they  came  to  the  isle 
of  Chryse,  where  were  a  fair  temple  and  altars  built  in 
honor  of  Athene.  Here  many  of  the  heroes  landed ; 
and  while  some  were  busied  in  refilling  the  water- 
casks  from  the  springs  of  fresh  water  near  the  shore, 
others  went  up  to  the  temple  and  offered  gifts  and  heart- 
felt thanks  to  Pallas  Athene\  But  as  Philoctetes,  the 
cunning  archer,  stood  near  one  of  the  altars,  a  water- 
snake  came  out  of  the  rocks  and  bit  him  on  the  foot. 
Terrible,  indeed,  was  the  wound,  and  great  were  the 
hero's  sufferings ;  day  and  night  he  groaned  and  cried 
aloud  by  reason  of  the  bitter  pain ;  and  there  was  no 
physician  that  could  heal  him  of  the  grievous  hurt. 
In  a  few  days,  a  noisome  stench  began  to  issue  from 
the  wound,  and  the  hero's  complainings  waxed  so  loud 

and  piteous  that   the  warriors   stopped  their  ears,  so 
252 


The  Long  Siege.  253 

that  they  might  not  hear  them.  Then  the  chiefs  took 
counsel  as  to  what  it  were  best  to  do  with  him  ;  and, 
although  some  advised  that  he  be  cast  into  the  sea, 
it  was  thought  best  to  follow  a  milder  course,  and  leave 
him  alone  on  the  isle  of  Lemnos.  Hence,  while  the 
hero  slept,  Odysseus  and  his  men  carried  him  on  shore ; 
and  they  laid  his  great  bow,  even  the  bow  of  Heracles, 
by  his  side  upon  the  sand,  and  put  a  cask  of  water  and 
a  basket  of  food  within  easy  reach  of  his  hand.  Then 
they  sailed  away,  and  left  him  alone  in  his  great  dis- 
tress and  sorrow. 

At  length  the  shores  of  Ilios  were  reached,  and  the 
high  towers  of  Troy  were  seen.  Then  the  sails  of  the 
vessels  were  furled  and  laid  away  in  the  roomy  holds, 
the  masts  were  lowered  with  speed,  and  the  oarsmen 
seated  themselves  upon  the  benches  and  rowed  the 
ships  forward  until  they  stood  in  one  line,  stretching 
more  than  a  league  along  the  shore.  But  as  they  drew 
nearer  the  sea-beach,  the  heroes  saw  all  the  plain 
before  them  covered  with  armed  men  and  horses  and 
chariots  drawn  up  to  hinder  their  landing.  And  they 
paused,  uncertain  what  to  do ;  for  Calchas  the  sooth- 
sayer had  declared  that  he  who  should  first  step  foot 
upon  the  shores  of  Ilios  should  meet  a  sudden  death. 

"  Who  among  all  the  heroes  will  dare  be  the  first 
to  die  for  Hellas?"  was  the  anxious  question  heard 
on  every  vessel.  Not  a  man  was  there  who  was  not 
willing  and  ready  to  be  the  second  one  to  step  on 
shore ;  but  who  would  be  the  first  ?    The  Trojan  host 


254  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

now  began  to  shoot  their  arrows  toward  the  ships, 
and  to  taunt  the  Hellenes  with  cowardice.  Yet  even 
Achilles  and  Ajax  Telamon,  the  mightiest  of  the 
heroes,  fell  back  and  would  not  take  the  fearful  risk 
of  beginning  the  fight.  Then  Protesilaus,  who  had  led 
forty  black  ships  from  Phylace  and  the  shore  of  An- 
trona,  seeing  that  some  one  must  die  for  the  cause, 
leaped  boldly  out  of  the  ship  upon  the  shelving  beach. 
At  once  a  hundred  arrows  whistled  through  the  air,  and 
glanced  from  his  sevenfold  shield  of  ox-hide ;  and  a 
heavy  spear,  thrown  by  Hector,  the  mightiest  of  the 
Trojans,  pierced  his  fair  armor,  and  laid  him  bleeding 
and  dead  upon  the  sand.  Quickly  the  warriors  leaped 
ashore ;  face  to  face  and  hand  to  hand  they  fought  with 
the  Trojan  host;  and,  led  by  Achilles  and  by  Diomede 
of  the  loud  war-cry,  they  drove  their  foes  across  the 
plain  and  even  through  the  city  gates. 

But  Protesilaus  lay  dead  upon  the  beach ;  and  few  of 
the  heroes  remembered  that  to  him  they  owed  their 
victory.  And  when  his  newly-wedded  wife,  fair  Laoda- 
mia,  heard  in  far  Phylace  that  he  had  fallen  first  in  the 
fight,  she  dight  herself  in  mourning  and  went  to  pray 
at  the  shrine  of  mighty  Zeus.  And  the  prayer  which 
she  offered  was  that  she  might  see  her  husband  once 
again,  and  holding  his  hand,  might  talk  with  him  if  it 
were  only  for  the  space  of  three  hours.  Then  Hermes 
led  the  war-loving  hero  back  to  the  upper  world  ;  and 
he  sat  in  his  bridal  chamber,  and  spoke  sweet  words  of 
comfort  to  Laodamia.     But  when  the  short  hours  were 


The  Long  Siege.  255 

past,  and  the  messenger  came  to  lead  Protesilaus  back 
to  the  land  of  shades,  his  wife  prayed  that  she  might 
return  with  him.  And  men  say  that  this  prayer,  also, 
was  heard,  and  that  arm  in  arm  the  two  went  forth 
together  to  their  shadowy  home  in  Hades. 

Time  would  fail  me  to  tell  you  how  the  Greeks  en- 
camped upon  the  plain  of  Troy,  and  how  for  more  than 
nine  long  years  they  laid  siege  to  that  great  city. 
Neither  can  I  speak  of  the  ruinous  wrath  of  Achilles 
which  brought  so  much  woe  upon  the  Hellenes ;  for  of 
that  you  will  read  in  the  oldest  and  grandest  poem  that 
the  world  has  ever  known,  — the  Iliad  of  Homer.  And 
there,  also,  you  will  read  of  the  death  of  Patroclus ; 
and  of  the  vengeance  which  Achilles  wrought,  even 
by  the  slaying  of  godlike  Hector;  and  of  the  mighty 
deeds  of  Diomede  and  of  Ajax  and  of  Agamemnon  on 
the  plains  of  Troy ;  and  of  the  shrewd  counsels  and 
crafty  schemes  of  Odysseus,  who,  though  in  strength 
surpassing  other  men,  learned  to  trust  rather  to  his 
skill  in  words  than  to  his  mastery  of  arms. 

The  time  at  length  drew  near  when  that  which  had 
been  spoken  concerning  the  doom  of  Achilles  was  to 
be  fulfilled.  For,  when  he  saw  that  he,  more  than  all 
the  Hellenes,  was  held  in  dread  by  the  Trojans,  his 
heart  was  puffed  up  with  unseemly  pride,  and  he  boasted 
of  his  deeds,  and  spoke  of  himself  as  greater  even  than 
Phoebus  Apollo.  Then  the  archer-god  was  greatly  an- 
gered, and  no  longer  covered  him  with  his  great  shield 
of  protection,  but  left  him  to  his  doom.     Hence,  on  a 


256  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

iay,  when  he  stood  before  the  Scaean  gate,  and  taunted 
the  Trojans  on  the  walls,  a  mighty  spear  smote  him,  and 
pierced  his  heart.  Some  say  that  the  weapon  was 
thrown  by  Paris,  the  perfidious  one  who  had  caused 
this  bloody  war ;  and  others  say  that  far-darting  Apollc 
in  his  wrath  launched  the  fatal  bolt.  The  body  of 
Achilles  incased  in  his  glorious  armor  lay  all  day  long 
in  the  dust,  while  Hellenes  and  Trojans  fought  around 
it,  and  neither  could  gain  the  mastery,  or  carry  away  the 
ghastly  prize.  At  length  a  great  storm  burst  upon  the 
combatants  :  the  thunder  rolled,  the  lightning  flashed, 
the  rain  and  hail  fell  in  blinding  torrents ;  and  the 
Trojans  withdrew  behind  their  walls.  Then  the  Hel- 
lenes lifted  the  body  of  Achilles,  and  carried  it  to  their 
ships  ;  and,  stripping  it  of  his  matchless  armor,  they 
laid  it  on  a  couch,  and  standing  around  it,  they  be- 
wailed his  untimely  death.  And  his  mother,  silver- 
footed  Thetis,  came  across  the  waves  with  all  the 
sea-nymphs  in  her  train  ;  and,  while  she  wept  over  the 
body  of  her  child,  the  nymphs  arrayed  it  in  shining 
robes  which  they  themselves  had  woven  in  their  coral 
caves.  Then,  after  many  days  and  nights  of  bitter  lam- 
entation, the  Hellenes  built  a  great  funeral  pile  upon 
the  beach  ;  and  they  laid  the  hero  thereon,  and  set  fire 
to  it,  and  the  flames  leaped  high  over  the  sea,  and 
Achilles  was  no  more.  Then  Thetis  took  the  hero's 
glorious  armor,  and  set  it  up  as  a  prize  to  that  one  who 
should  excel  in  feats  of  strength  and  skill  in  a  grand 
trial  to  be  made  beside  the  ships.     Only  two  of  all  the 


The  Long  Siege.  257 

host  stood  up  for  the  trial,  — Ajax  Telamon  and  Odys- 
seus ;  for  no  other  man  dared  contend  with  either  of 
these.  Mighty  indeed  was  the  contest ;  but  in  the 
end  Odysseus  prevailed,  and  the  matchless  armor  was 
awarded  him.  Then,  when  Ajax  knew  that  he  had 
been  beaten  in  the  suit,  —  and  beaten  not  more  by 
honest  strength  and  skill  than  by  crafty  guile,  —  he  fell 
prone  upon  the  earth,  and  his  great  mind  lost  its 
balance.  And  when  he  arose  to  his  feet,  he  knew  no 
longer  his  friends  and  comrades,  nor  did  he  remember 
any  thing.  But  like  a  roaring  wild  beast,  he  rushed 
from  the  tents  into  the  fields  and  pasture  lands  ;  and, 
seeing  a  flock  of  sheep  browsing  among  the  herbage, 
he  fell  upon  them  with  his  sword,  and  slaughtered  great 
numbers  of  them,  fancying  that  they  were  foemen  seek- 
ing his  life.  Nor  did  any  man  dare  say  any  thing  to 
him,  or  try  in  any  way  to  check  him,  or  turn  him  aside 
from  his  mad  freaks.  When  he  grew  tired,  at  length, 
of  slaughtering  the  helpless  beasts,  he  went  down  into 
a  green  dell,  and  fell  upon  his  own  sword.  A  great 
stream  of  blood  gushed  from  the  wound,  and  dyed  the 
earth,  and  from  it  sprang  a  purple  flower  bearing  upon 
its  edges  both  the  initials  of  his  name  and  a  sign  of 
woe,  the  letters  aX. 

Then  Odysseus  bewailed  his  comrade's  unhappy 
death.  "Would  that  I  had  never  prevailed,  and  won 
that  prize  ! "  he  cried.  "  So  goodly  a  head  hath  the 
earth  closed  over  for  the  sake  of  these  arms,  even 
that  of  Ajax,  who  in  beauty  and  in  feats  of  war  was  of 


258  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

a  mould  far  above  all  other  men,  save  only  peerless 
Achilles.  What  a  tower  of  strength  wert  thou !  Long 
indeed  shall  it  be  ere  Hellas  shall  see  another  like 
thee ! " « 

After  this  the  Hellenes  began  to  despair  ;  for  many 
of  their  noblest  heroes  had  perished.  Who  now  should 
lead  them  on  to  victory  ?  Surely  not  Patroclus,  nor 
Achilles,  nor  Ajax.  Bitter  murmurings  were  heard 
among  the  ships,  and  the  men  declared  that  ere  another 
moon  should  pass,  they  would  embark  and  sail  back  to 
their  loved  homes,  nor  ask  the  leave  of  Agamemnon. 

At  the  foot  of  Mount  Ida  there  stood  a  temple  of 
Apollo,  built  by  the  Trojans  while  yet  sweet  Peace  was 
smiling  on  the  land.  To  that  temple  Helenus  the  wise 
soothsayer,  one  of  Priam's  sons,  was  wont  to  go,  steal- 
ing out  from  the  city  in  the  darkness  of  midnight,  and 
returning  ere  the  gray  dawn  of  morning  appeared.  He 
went  there  that  he  might  learn  from  Apollo  the  secrets 
of  the  future,  and  he  fondly  hoped  that  his  going  was 
unknown  to  the  foes  of  Troy.  But  shrewd  Odysseus 
found  him  out  ;  and  one  night,  with  a  band  of  men,  he 
lay  in  wait  for  the  prophet-prince,  and  took  him  captive. 

"This  is  a  rich  treasure  that  we  have  taken,"  said 
Odysseus,  "and  it  shall  repay  us  for  all  our  losses." 

Helenus  was  straightway  taken  to  the  camp.  Around 
him  gathered  the  heroes, — Agamemnon,  Nestor,  Mene- 
laus,  and  all  the  rest,  —  demanding  that  he  should 
uncover  the  secrets  of  the  future. 

1  See  Note  16  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


The  Long  Siege.  259 

"When  and  how  shall  the  Hellenes  overcome  your 
city  of  Troy  ?  "  said  Odysseus.  "  Tell  us  this,  and  tell 
us  truly,  or  death  in  its  fearfullest  form  shall  come 
upon  thee  swiftly." 

Then  the  trembling  seer  revealed  to  his  enemies  that 
which  he  had  learned  at  Apollo's  shrine.  He  told 
them  that  within  the  present  year  the  Hellenes  would 
certainly  prevail  if  only  they  did  three  things,  with- 
out which  Troy  could  never  be  taken.  First,  the  Pal- 
ladion,  the  monster  image  of  Athene,  must  be  removed 
from  the  temple  in  the  city,  and  set  up  in  the  camp 
by  the  seashore.  Second,  young  Pyrrhus  the  son  of 
Achilles  must  be  brought  from  his  island-home  of  Scyros 
to  take  the  place  of  his  father  at  the  head  of  the 
Myrmidon  host.  And  third,  Philoctetes,  who  had  been 
so  deeply  wronged  by  the  chiefs,  and  left  to  perish  on 
the  desert  shores  of  Lemnos,  must  be  found  and  brought 
to  Troy,  and  healed  of  his  grievous  wound. 

"These  are  great  tasks  and  heavy,"  said  Odysseus. 
"  Nevertheless  I  will  undertake  to  see  them  performed." 

Then  he  ordered  a  swift  ship  to  be  made  ready ;  and 
with  old  Phoinix  as  companion,  and  a  score  of  trusted 
fighting-men,  he  went  on  board,  and  sailed  at  once  for 
Scyros  the  quondam  home  of  great  Achilles.  Ten  days 
afterward  he  returned,  bringing  with  him  the  lad 
Pyrrhus,  so  like  his  glorious  father  in  face  and  figure 
that  the  Myrmidons  hailed  him  at  once  as  their  chief 
and  king. 

"Thus  have  I  done  one  of  the  three  tasks,"  said 


260  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

Odysseus.  "  I  shall  perform  the  other  two,  mayhap  as 
easily,  and  then  the  high  walls  of  Troy  shall  fall  before 
us." 

Three  days  later  the  swift  ship  of  Odysseus  again 
put  to  sea ;  and  young  Pyrrhus  was  the  hero's  comrade. 
It  was  but  a  short  voyage  to  Lemnos ;  and,  when  they 
reached  that  island,  they  moored  their  vessel  in  the 
sheltering  cove  close  by  the  spot  where,  nine  years 
before,  the  suffering  Philoctetes  had  been  left.  Odys- 
seus concealed  himself,  and  sent  the  young  prince  on 
shore  with  some  of  the  warriors  who  had  come  with 
them  ;  for  he  rightly  guessed  that  Philoctetes  had  not 
forgotten  the  wrong  which  he  had  suffered  at  his  hands. 

Pyrrhus  found  the  hero  living  alone  in  a  wretched 
cave  with  no  friend  but  the  mighty  bow  of  Heracles, 
and  suffering  still  great  torments  from  the  horrid  wound 
in  his  foot.  Yet  the  prince  could  not  prevail  upon 
him  to  sail  to  Troy ;  for  he  said  that  he  would  rather 
endure  the  distress,  the  hunger,  and  the  loneliness 
which  were  his  in  Lemnos,  than  meet  again  those  false 
friends  who  had  left  him  there  to  die.  Then  Odys- 
seus came  forth  from  his  hiding-place,  with  a  company 
of  men,  to  seize  the  hero  and  carry  him  by  force  on 
board  the  vessel.  But  this  the  young  prince  would  not 
permit ;  and  Philoctetes,  when  he  saw  them,  fled  into 
the  innermost  parts  of  his  cave,  and  would  not  come 
forth.  When  Odysseus  found  that  neither  threats  nor 
entreaties  would  prevail  upon  the  hero,  he  went  back  to 
his  ship,  and  made  ready  to  return  to  Troy.     Then  it 


The  Long  Siege.  261 

was  that  a  vision  appeared  to  Philoctetes,  — a  vision  of 
Blighty  Heracles  clothed  in  bright  raiment,  and  a  great 
glory  shining  in  his  face. 

"  Go  thou  to  the  land  of  Ilios,"  said  the  vision. 
"There  thou  shalt  first  be  healed  of  thy  grievous  sick- 
ness ;  and  afterwards  thou  shalt  do  great  deeds,  and 
shalt  aid  in  taking  the  city ;  and  the  first  prize  of  valor 
shall  be  awarded  to  thee  among  all  the  heroes.  For  it 
is  the  will  of  the  immortals  that  Troy  shall  be  taken, 
and  that  my  bow  shall  mightily  aid  in  its  overthrow." 

Then  Philoctetes  went  forth  from  his  hiding-place, 
and  was  taken  on  board  the  vessel.  And  as  the  sails 
were  spread,  and  the  breezes  wafted  them  towards  the 
Trojan  shore,  he  bade  a  tearful  farewell  to  Lemnos, 
where  he  had  spent  so  many  years  of  loneliness  and 
sorrow :  — 

"Farewell  to  thee,  O  home  that  didst  befriend  me 
when  others  failed  !  Farewell,  ye  nymphs  that  haunt 
the  meadows  and  the  shore,  or  dwell  beside  the  gushing 
mountain  springs.  Farewell,  O  cave  that  oft  hast  been 
my  shelter  from  the  winter's  frosty  winds  and  the 
sweltering  rays  of  the  summer's  sun.  I  leave  you 
now ;  and  thou,  O  sea-girt  Lemnos,  I  may  never  more 
behold !  And  grant,  ye  gods,  that  favoring  winds  may 
blow,  and  carry  me  safely  wheresoe'er  the  Fates  would 
have  me  go  !  " 

As  soon  as  the  heroes  reached  the  Trojan  shore,  and 
the  ship  was  drawn  to  its  place  high  on  the  beach, 
Philoctetes   was    carried   to   the   tents,    and   given    in 


262  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

charge  of  Machaon,  Asclepius'  noble  son.  And  as  he 
lay  upon  a  cot  in  the  tent  of  the  kind  physician,  a 
sweet  odor,  like  that  of  blossoming  orchards  and  the 
bloom  of  clover,  filled  the  air  around  him,  and  he  slept ; 
and  men  said  that  the  spirit  of  Asclepius  had  fanned 
him  into  slumber.  Then  Machaon,  with  matchless  skill, 
cut  out  the  poisoned  flesh  from  his  foot,  and  cleansed 
it,  and  bound  it  up  with  soft  linen.  And  when  the 
hero  awoke,  the  pain  had  left  him ;  and  the  wound 
from  which  he  had  suffered  such  untold  torments 
began  at  once  to  heal. 

It  chanced  one  day  as  Philoctetes  was  sitting  outside 
of  his  tent,  that  a  party  of  Trojans  led  by  Paris  made  a 
sally  from  the  city  gates,  and  came  scouring  across  the 
plain,  intent  on  doing  mischief  to  the  Hellenes.  As  the 
daring  warriors  drew  near  the  tents,  Philoctetes  fitted 
an  arrow  to  the  great  bow  of  Heracles,  and  took  aim 
at  their  fair-faced  leader.  The  deadly  dart  pierced  the 
shoulder  of  Paris,  and  he  fell  headlong  from  his  chariot ; 
and  there  he  would  have  met  his  death,  had  not  his 
comrades  quickly  rallied,  and  carried  him,  faint  with 
pain,  back  to  the  city  and  his  father's  halls.  Terrible 
were  the  tortures  which  the  hero  suffered,  for  the 
arrow  was  one  of  those  which  Heracles  had  poisoned 
by  dipping  in  the  blood  of  the  hydra.  The  venom  sped 
through  his  burning  veins  ;  his  strength  failed  him ; 
the  torments  of  a  thousand  deaths  seemed  to  be  upon 
him.  Then  he  forgot  fair  Helen,  for  whose  sake  was 
all  this  war  and  bloodshed  ;  and  he  bethought  him  of 


The  Long  Siege.  263 

gentle  CEnone,  whom,  in  the  innocent  days  of  youth, 
he  had  wooed  and  won  in  the  pleasant  dales  of  Ida. 
And  he  cried  aloud,  "  Bring  to  rae  CEnone,  her  whom  I 
have  so  grievously  wronged !  She  alone  can  heal  me 
of  my  hurt ! " 

Then  swift  messengers  were  sent  to  the  woody 
slopes  of  Ida,  to  find,  if  it  might  be,  the  long-deserted, 
long-forgotten  wife.  "  Come  quickly  and  save  thy  err- 
ing but  repentant  husband,"  —  such  was  the  message, 
— "  behold,  he  suffers  from  a  grievous  wound !  But 
thou  art  skilled  in  the  healing  art  above  all  who  dwell 
in  Ilios  ;  and  he  prays  that,  forgiving  all  wrong,  thou 
wilt  hasten  to  help  him." 

When  CEnone  heard  the  message,  she  remembered 
the  cruel  wrongs  which  she  had  endured  so  long  at  the 
hands  of  faithless  Paris  ;  and  without  a  word  in  answer, 
she  turned  away  and  went  about  her  daily  tasks  in  her 
humble  cottage  home.  Then  the  messengers  returned 
to  Troy,  and  told  the  prince  that  CEnone  would  not 
come  to  help  him.  And  Paris,  with  a  groan  of  pain 
and  a  sigh  of  despair,  turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  and 
died. 

Then  CEnone,  too  late,  repented  that  she  had  turned 
a  deaf  ear  to  her  husband's  last  request.  And  in  haste 
she  clad  herself  in  her  wedding  robes,  and  came  to 
the  sad  halls  of  the  prince,  not  knowing  that  death  had 
taken  him.  Fair  and  beautiful  as  in  the  days  of  her 
youth,  she  stood  before  his  lifeless  form.  She  took  his 
cold  hands  in  her  warm  palm,  and  said,  "  I  have  come. 


264  A  Story  of  the   Golden  Age. 

O  Paris !  Waken,  and  speak  to  me !  Dost  thou  not 
remember  me,  —  CEnone,  whom  thou  didst  woo  in  the 
flowery  dells  of  Ida  ?  I  am  still  the  same,  and  never 
have  I  wronged  thee.  Speak  to  me,  O  Paris  !  "  Then 
she  knelt  beside  him,  and  saw  the  gaping  wound  which 
the  arrow  of  Philoctetes  had  made ;  and  she  knew 
that  life  had  fled,  and  that  the  hero  never  more  would 
waken  or  speak  to  her.  And  the  gentle  heart  of  CEnone 
was  broken  with  the  anguish  which  came  upon  her ; 
and  when  the  men  of  Troy  laid  Paris  upon  the  funeral 
pile,  and  the  smoke  and  flame  arose  towards  heaven, 
the  fair,  perfidious  prince  was  not  alone,  for  CEnone 
shared  his  blazing  couch. 

While  Troy  was  in  mourning  for  the  unhappy  death 
of  Paris,  Odysseus  and  Diomede  were  planning  the 
means  by  which  to  obtain  the  sacred  image  of  Athene1 
—  the  Palladion  of  Troy.  In  the  guise  of  a  ragged 
beggar,  Odysseus  found  his  way  into  the  city,  and  to 
the  door  of  the  temple  where  the  great  image  stood. 

"  Ah,  Odysseus !  I  know  thee  despite  thy  rags  !  " 
was  whispered  into  his  ear,  as  a  fair  hand  offered  him  a 
pittance.  He  looked  up,  and  saw  the  peerless  Helen 
before  him,  as  beautiful  as  when,  a  score  of  years  be- 
fore, the  princes  of  Hellas  had  sued  for  her  hand  at 
the  court  of  old  Tyndareus. 

"Be  not  afraid,"  she  said,  "  I  will  not  betray  you." 

And  then  she  told  him  how  unhappy  she  had  been 
in  Troy,  and  how  she  longed  to  return  to  her  country- 
men and  to  her  much-wronged  husband  Menelaus.     And 


The  Long  Siege.  265 

she  promised  to  aid  him  in  whatever  way  she  could,  to 
carry  off  the  treasured  Palladion,  and  to  open  the 
way  for  the  overthrow  of  Troy.  Odysseus,  shrewdest 
of  men,  talked  not  long  with  the  princess,  but  soon 
returned  to  the  camp.  Three  nights  later,  he  and 
Diomede  made  their  way  by  stealth  into  the  city,  and 
carried  away  the  priceless  Palladion. 

And  now  the  three  tasks  which  Helenus  had  spoken 
of,  had  been  performed.  What  more  remained  ere  the 
doomed  city  should  be  overthrown  ?  The  chiefs  must 
needs  again  consult  with  shrewd  Odysseus  ;  and  the 
plan  which  he  proposed  was  carried  out.  A  wooden 
horse,  of  wondrous  size,  was  made ;  and  in  it  the  dough- 
tiest heroes  of  the  host,  with  young  Pyrrhus  as  their 
leader,  hid  themselves.  Then  the  rest  of  the  Hellenes 
embarked,  with  all  their  goods,  aboard  their  ships,  and 
sailed  away  beyond  the  wooded  shores  of  Tenedos. 
But  the  monster  horse,  with  its  hidden  load  of  heroes, 
stood  alone  upon  the  beach. 

When  the  Trojans,  looking  from  their  high  towers, 
beheld  their  enemies  depart,  they  were  filled  with  joy ; 
and,  opening  wide  their  gates,  they  poured  out  of  the 
city,  and  crowded  across  the  plain,  anxious  to  see 
the  wonderful  horse,  —  the  only  relic  which  their  foes 
had  left  upon  their  shores.  While  they  were  gazing 
upon  it,  and  hazarding  many  a  guess  at  its  purpose  and 
use,  a  prisoner  was  brought  before  the  chiefs.  It  was 
Sinon,  a  young  Hellene,  who  had  been  found  lurking 
among  the  rocks  by  the  shore.     Trembling  with  pre- 


266  A  Story  of  the  Golden  Age. 

tended  fear,  he  told  the  Trojans  a  sad,  false  story,  of 
wrongs  which  he  said  he  had  suffered  at  the  hands 
of  Odysseus. 

"  But  what  meaneth  this  monster  image  of  a  horse  ? 
Tell  us  that,"  said  the  Trojan  chiefs. 

Then  Sinon  told  them  how  the  Hellenes  had  suffered 
great  punishment  at  the  hands  of  Athene^  because  they 
had  stolen  the  sacred  Palladion  of  Troy,  and  how  it  was 
on  this  account  that  they  had  at  last  given  up  the  siege 
of  Troy,  and  had  sailed  away  for  their  homes  in  distant 
Hellas.  And  he  told  them,  too,  of  the  words  of  Calchas 
the  soothsayer ;  that  they  should  leave  on  the  shores 
of  Ilios  an  image  which  should  serve  the  same  pur- 
pose to  those  who  honored  it,  as  the  sacred  Palla- 
dion had  served  within  the  walls  of  Troy ;  and  that  if 
the  Trojans  should  revere  this  figure,  and  set  it  up 
within  their  walls,  it  would  prove  a  tower  of  strength 
to  them,  insuring  eternal  greatness  to  Troy,  and  utter 
destruction  to  Hellas. 

Need  I  tell  you  how  this  artful  story  deceived  the 
Trojans,  and  how  with  shouts  of  triumph  they  dragged 
the  great  image  into  the  city  ?  Need  I  tell  you  how, 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  the  fleet  returned  from 
Tenedos,  and  the  mighty  host  again  landed  upon  the 
Trojan  shore ;  or  how  the  heroes,  concealed  within 
the  wooden  horse,  came  out  of  their  hiding-place,  and 
opened  the  gates  to  their  friends  outside  ;  or  how  the 
Hellenes  fell  upon  the  astonished  Trojans,  awakened 
so  suddenly  from  a  false  dream  of  peace ;  or  how,  with 


The  Long  Siege.  267 

sword  and  torch,  they  slew  and  burned,  and  meted  out 
the  doom  of  the  fated  city?  It  was  thus  that  the 
princes  of  Hellas  performed  the  oath  which  they  had 
sworn,  years  and  years  before,  in  the  halls  of  King 
Tyndareus  ;  and  it  was  thus  that  the  wrongs  of  Mene- 
laus  were  avenged,  fair  Helen  was  given  back  to  her 
husband,  and  the  honor  of  Hellas  was  freed  from 
blemish. 


THE    AFTER    WORD. 


And  now,  if  you  would  learn  more  concerning  the 
great  heroes  of  the  Golden  Age,  you  must  read  the 
noble  poems  in  which  the  story  of  their  deeds  is  told. 
In  the  Iliad  of  Homer,  truly  the  grandest  of  all 
poems  written  by  men,  you  will  read  of  what  befell 
the  Greeks  before  the  walls  of  Troy,  —  of  the  daring 
of  Diomede ;  of  the  wisdom  of  Nestor ;  of  the  shrewd- 
ness of  Odysseus ;  of  the  foolish  pride  of  Agamem- 
non ;  of  the  nobility  of  Hector ;  of  the  grief  of  old 
King  Priam ;  of  the  courage  of  Achilles.  In  the 
JEnQid  of  Virgil,  you  will  read  of  the  last  day  of  the 
long  siege,  and  the  fatal  folly  of  the  Trojans  ;  of  crafty 
Sinon  ;  of  the  sad  end  of  Laocoon,  who  dared  suspect 
the  object  of  the  wooden  horse;  of  the  destruction 
of  the  mighty  city ;  and  of  the  wanderings  of  ^Eneas 
and  the  remnant  of  the  Trojans  until  they  had  founded 
a  new  city  on  the  far  Lavinian  shore.     In  the  tragedies 

of  iEschylus,  you  will  read  of  the  return  of  the  heroes 

269 


270  The  After   Word. 

to  Greece ;  of  the  sad  death  of  Agamemnon  in  his 
own  great  banquet-hall ;  of  the  wicked  career  of  Cly- 
temnestra ;  of  the  terrible  vengeance  of  Orestes ;  of 
what  befell  Iphigenia  in  Tauris,  and  how  she  returned 
to  her  native  land.  And  in  the  Odyssey  of  Homer, 
second  only  to  the  Iliad  in  grandeur,  you  will  read  of 
the  strange  adventures  of  Odysseus ;  how  he,  storm- 
tossed  and  wind-driven,  strove  for  ten  weary  years  to 
return  to  Ithaca ;  how,  after  the  fall  of  Troy,  — 

"  He  overcame  the  people  of  Ciconia  ;  how  he  passed 
thence  to  the  rich  fields  of  the  race  who  feed  upon  the 
lotus  ;  what  the  Cyclops  did,  and  how  upon  the  Cyclops 
he  avenged  the  death  of  his  brave  comrades,  whom  the 
wretch  had  piteously  slaughtered  and  devoured  ;  and 
how  he  came  to  y£olus,  and  found  a  friendly  welcome, 
and  was  sent  by  him  upon  his  voyage ;  yet  'twas  not 
his  fate  to  reach  his  native  land  ;  a  tempest  caught  his 
fleet,  and  far  across  the  fishy  deep  bore  him  away, 
lamenting  bitterly.  And  how  he  landed  at  Telepylus, 
among  the  La^strigonians,  who  destroyed  his  ships 
and  warlike  comrades,  he  alone  in  his  black  ship 
escaping."  .  .  . 

You  will  read,  too,  of  how  he  was  driven  to  land 
upon  the  coast  where  Circe  the  sorceress  dwelt,  and 


The  After   Word.  271 


how  he  shrewdly  dealt  with  her  deceit  and  many 
arts :  — 

"  And  how  he  went  to  Hades'  dismal  realm  in  his  good 
galley,  to  consult  the  soul  of  him  of  Thebes,  Tiresias, 
and  beheld  all  his  lost  comrades  and  his  mother,  —  her 
who  brought  him  forth,  a*"id  trained  him  when  a  child  ; 
and  how  he  heard  the  Sirens  afterward,  and  how  he 
came  upon  the  wandering  rocks,  the  terrible  Charybdis, 
and  the  crags  of  Scylla,  —  which  no  man  had  ever 
passed  in  safety  ;  how  his  comrades  slew  for  food  the 
oxen  of  the  Sun  ;  how  mighty  Zeus,  the  Thunderer, 
with  a  bolt  of  fire  from  heaven  smote  his  swift  bark  ; 
and  how,  his  gallant  crew  all  perished,  he  alone  escaped 
with  life.  And  how  he  reached  Ogygia's  isle,  and  met 
the  nymph  Calypso,  who  long  time  detained  and  fed 
him  in  her  vaulted  grot,  and  promised  that  he  ne'er 
should  die,  nor  know  decay  of  age,  through  all  the  days 
to  come  ;  yet  moved  she  not  the  purpose  of  his  heart. 
And  how  he  next  through  many  hardships  came  to  the 
Phasacians,  and  they  welcomed  him  and  honored  him 
as  if  he  were  a  god,  and  to  his  native  country  in  a 
bark  sent  him  with  ample  gifts  of  brass  and  gold  and 
raiment." 

How  he  made   himself  known  to  old  Eumaeus   the 


272  The  After   Word. 

swineherd,  and  to  his  son  Telemachus,  and  how  his 
old  nurse,  Eurycleia,  knew  him  by  the  scar  which  he 
had  received  when  a  boy  from  the  wild  boar  on  Mount 
Parnassus.  How  he  found  his  palace  full  of  rude 
suitors  seeking  the  hand  of  faithful  Penelope ;  and 
how,  with  the  great  bow  of  Eurytus,  he  slew  them  all, 
and  spared  not  one. 

..."  Never  shall  the  fame 
Of  his  great  valor  perish ;  and  the  gods 
Themselves  shall  frame,  for  those  who  dwell  on  earth, 
Sweet  strains  in  praise  of  sage  Penelope." 


Notes.  272 


NOTES. 


Note  i.  —  Odysseus  and  his  Nurse.    Page  12. 

In  the  Odyssey,  Book  I.,  lines  425-444,  a  similar  incident  is 
related  concerning  Telemachus  and  Eurycleia.  Many  of  the  illus- 
trations of  life  and  manners  given  in  this  volume  have  been  taken, 
with  slight  changes,  from  Homer.  It  has  not  been  thought  neces- 
sary to  make  distinct  mention  of  such  passages.  The  student  of 
Homer  will  readily  recognize  them. 

Note  2.  —  Apollo  and  the  Python.    Page  43. 

Readers  of  the  "Story  of  Siegfried"  cannot  fail  to  notice  the 
resemblance  of  the  legends  relating  to  that  hero,  to  some  of 
the  myths  of  Apollo.  Siegfried,  like  Apollo,  was  the  bright  being 
whose  presence  dispelled  the  mists  and  the  gloom  of  darkness. 
He  dwelt  for  a  time  in  a  mysterious  but  blessed  region  far  to  the 
north.  He  was  beneficent  and  kind  to  his  friends,  terrible  to  his 
foes.  Apollo's  favorite  weapons  were  his  silver  bow  and  silent 
arrows ;  Siegfried's  main  dependence  was  in  his  sun-bright  armor 
and  his  wonderful  sword  Balmung.  Apollo  slew  the  Python,  and 
left  it  lying  to  enrich  the  earth  ;  Siegfried  slew  Fafnir  the  dragon, 
and  seized  its  treasures  for  his  own.  —  See  The  Story  of  Siegfried. 

Note  3.  —  Sisyphus.    Page  50. 

"  Yea,  and  I  beheld  Sisyphus  in  strong  torment,  grasping  a 
monstrous  stone  with  both  his  hands.     He  was  pressing  thereat 


274  JSlotes. 

with  hands  and  feet,  and  trying  to  roll  the  stone  upward  toward  the 
brow  of  the  hill.  But  oft  as  he  was  about  to  hurl  it  over  the  top, 
the  weight  would  drive  him  back :  so  once  again  to  the  plain  rolled 
the  stone,  the  shameless  thing.  And  he  once  more  kept  heaving 
and  straining;  and  the  sweat  the  while  was  pouring  down  his 
limbs,  and  the  dust  rose  upwards  from  his  head."  —  Homer's 
Odyssey,  XI.  595. 

Note  4.  —  A  Son  of  Hermes.    Page  50. 

Autolycus  was  said  to  have  been  a  son  of  Hermes,  doubtless  on 
account  of  his  shrewdness  and  his  reputation  for  thievery.  Hermes 
is  sometimes  spoken  of  as  the  god  of  thieves. 

Note  5.  —  The  Choice  of  Heracles.    Page  61. 

This  moral  lesson  is,  of  course,  of  much  later  date  than  that  of 
our  story.  It  is  the  invention  of  the  Greek  sophist  Prodicus,  who 
was  a  contemporary  of  Socrates. 

Note  6.  —  Meleager.    Page  68. 

Readers  of  the  "  Story  of  Roland  "  will  readily  recognize  several 
points  of  resemblance  between  the  legend  of  Meleager's  childhood 
and  the  story  of  Ogier  the  Dane.  It  is,  indeed,  probable  that  very 
much  of  the  latter  is  simply  a  mediaeval  adaptation  of  the  former.  — 
See  also  the  account  of  the  three  Norns  in  The  Story  of  Siegfried. 

Note  7. — The  Death  of  Asclepius.    Page  91. 

The  story  of  Balder,  as  related  in  the  Norse  mythology,  has 
many  points  of  resemblance  to  that  of  Asclepius.  Balder,  although 
a  being  of  a  higher  grade  than  Asclepius,  was  the  friend  and  bene- 
factor of  mankind.  He  was  slain  through  the  jealousy  of  the  evil 
one :  his  death  was  bewailed  by  all  living  beings,  birds,  beasts, 
trees,  and  plants.  —  See  The  Story  of  Siegfried. 


Notes.  275 


Note  8. —  Paris  and  CEnone.    Page  109. 

A  very  beautiful  version  of  this  story  is  to  be  found  in  Tennyson's 
poem  entitled  "  OEnone."     It  will  well  repay  reading. 

Note  9.  —  The  Swineherd's  Story.    Page  119. 

This  story  was  afterwards  related  to  Odysseus  under  very 
different  circumstances.  The  curious  reader  is  referred  to  the 
Odyssey,  Book  XV.,  390-485. 

Note  10.  —  Prayers.    Page  129. 

*The  gods  themselves  are  placable,  though  far 
Above  us  all  in  honor  and  in  power 
And  virtue.     We  propitiate  them  with  vows, 
Incense,  libations,  and  burnt-offerings, 
And  prayers  for  those  who  have  offended.     Prayers 
Are  daughters  of  almighty  Jupiter,— 
Lame,  wrinkled,  and  squint-eyed,  —  that  painfully 
Follow  Misfortune's  steps ;  but  strong  of  limb 
And  swift  of  foot  Misfortune  is,  and,  far 
Outstripping  all,  comes  first  to  every  land, 
And  there  wreaks  evil  on  mankind,  which  Prayers 
Do  afterwards  redress.     Whoe'er  receives 
Jove's  daughters  reverently  when  they  approach, 
Him  willingly  they  aid,  and  to  his  suit 
They  listen.     Whosoever  puts  them  by 
With  obstinate  denial,  they  appeal 
To  Jove,  the  son  of  Saturn,  and  entreat 
That  he  will  cause  Misfortune  to  attend 
The  offender's  way  in  life,  that  he  in  turn 
May  suffer  evil,  and  be  punished  thus." 

The  Iliad  (Bryant's  Translation),  IX.  618-^36, 

A  sacrifice  to  Poseidon  similar  to  that  described  here  is  spoken 
of  in  the  Odyssey,  III.  30-60. 


276  Notes. 

Note  ii.— The  Labors  of  Heracles.    Page  140. 

It  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  unexplainable  decrees  of  fate, 
that  Heracles  should  serve  Eurystheus  twelve  years,  and  that  at 
his  bidding  he  should  perform  the  most  difficult  undertakings 
The  account  of  the  twelve  labors  of  Heracles,  undertaken  bj 
command  of  his  master,  belongs  to  a  later  age  than  that  of  Homer. 
The  twelve  labors  were  as  follows  :  — 

1.  The  fight  with  the  Nemean  lion. 

2.  The  fight  with  the  Lernsean  hydra, 

3.  Capture  of  the  Arcadian  stag. 

4.  Destruction  of  the  Erymanthian  boar. 

5.  Cleansing  the  stables  of  Augeas. 

6.  Putting  to  flight  the  Harpies,  or  Stymphalian  birds, 

7.  Capture  of  the  Cretan  bull. 

8.  Capture  of  the  mares  of  Thracian  Diomede- 

9.  Seizure  of  the  girdle  of  the  queen  of  the  Amazons. 
to.  Capture  of  the  oxen  of  Geryones. 

f  I.  Fetching  the  golden  apples  of  the  Hesperides. 
12.  Bringing  Cerberus  from  the  lower  world. 

Note  12.    Page  151. 

The  description  of  the  palace  of  Tyndareus  given  here  has 
fcrftny  points  of  resemblance  to  the  description  of  the  palace  oJ 
Aldnous.  —  See  Odyssey^  VII.  85. 

Note  13.    The  Vengeance  of  Odysseus.    Page  224. 

PaJamedes,  according  to  the  ancient  story,  went  to  Troy  with 
the  heroes,  where  he  distinguished  himself  by  his  wisdom  and 
courage.  But  Odysseus,  who  could  never  forgive  him,  caused  a 
captive  Phrygian  to  write  to  Palamedes  a  letter  in  the  name  ol 
Priam,  and  bribed  a  servant  of  Palamedes  to  conceal  the  letter 
under  his  tnaster's  bed.     He  then  accused  Palamedes  of  treachery. 


Notes.  277 

Upon  searching  the  tent,  the  letter  was  found,  and  Palamedes  was 
stoned  to  death.  When  Palamedes  was  led  to  death,  he  exclaimed, 
u  Truth,  I  lament  thee,  for  thou  hast  died  even  before  me ! "  There 
are  other  stories  as  to  the  manner  of  the  death  of  Palamedes.  Some 
say  that  Odysseus  and  Diomede  induced  him  to  descend  into  a 
well,  where  they  pretended  they  had  discovered  a  treasure ;  and 
when  he  was  below,  they  cast  stones  upon  him,  and  killed  him. 
Others  state  that  he  was  drowned  by  them  while  fishing;  and  others 
that  he  was  killed  by  Paris  with  an  arrow.  —  See  Smith's  Classical 
Dictionary. 

Note  14.  —  The  Garden  of  Lycomedes.    Page  230. 

The  curious  reader  may  find  in  the  description  of  the  garden 
of  Alcinous  (Odyssey,  VII.  85,  et  seq.)  some  resemblance  to  the 
description  here  given  of  the  garden  of  Lycomedes. 

Note  15.  —  The  Caskets  of  Zeus.    Page  233. 

"  Beside  Jove's  threshold  stand 
Two  casks  of  gifts  for  man.    One  cask  contains 
The  evil,  one  the  good ;  and  he  to  whom 
The  Thunderer  gives  them  mingled  sometimes  falls 
Into  misfortune,  and  is  sometimes  crowned 
With  blessings.     But  the  man  to  whom  lie  gives 
The  evil  only  stands  a  mark  exposed 
To  wring,  and,  chased  by  grim  calamity, 
Wanders  the  teeming  earth,  alike  unloved 
By  gods  and  men."  —  The  Iliad,  XXIV.  663-672, 

Note  16. —  Death  of  A/ax.    Page  258. 

"The  soul  of  Ajax,  son  of  Telarnon,  alone  stood  apart,  being 
still  angry  for  the  victory  wherein  1  prevailed  against  him,  in  the 
suit  by  the  ships  concerning  the  arms  of  Achilles  that  his  lady 
mother  had  set  for  a  prize ;  and  the  sons  of  the  Trojans  made 
award  and  Pallas  Athene.  Would  that  I  had  never  prevailed  and 
won  such  a  prize  !  " —  Odyssey ;  XI.  544-548. 


INDEX  TO   PROPER  NAMES. 


[The  figures  in  parentheses  indicate  the  page  or  pages  on  which  the  nami 
receives  fullest  mention.} 

Acarnanla  (3,  72),  the  most  western  province  of  Hellas. 

Acastus  (92),  son  of  Pelias,  king  of  Iolcos ;  he  was  slain  by  Peleus. 

Achaia  (5),  the  northern  coast  of  Peloponnesus. 

Achilles  (91,  109,  225-236,  246,  255),  son  of  Peleus  and  the  sea-nymph 

Thetis.    The  chief  hero  among  the  Hellenes. 
Actceon  (87),  a  celebrated  huntsman.     He  was  changed  by  Artemis  into 

a  stag,  and  torn  to  pieces  by  his  own  dogs. 
Admetus  (90,  166),  king  of  Pherse  in  Thessaly. 
^son  (80),  son  of  Cretheus,  and  father  of  Jason.    He  was  excluded  from 

the  kingship  of  Iolcos  by  his  half-brother  Pelias. 
^Etolia  (5),  a  country  north  of  the  Corinthian  Gulf  (Bay  of  Crissa),  and 

east  of  Acarnania. 
Agamemnon  (150,  233,  238,  251),  king  of  Mycenae,  and  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  Hellenic  forces  in  the  war  against  Troy. 
Ajax  Telamon,  sometimes  called  the  greater  Ajax  (150,  234,  257),  son 

of  Telamon,  king  of  Salamis.      He  was  a  nephew  of  Peleus,  and 

hence  a  cousin  of  Achilles. 
Ajax  Oileus,  sometimes  called  the  lesser  Ajax  (151,  234),  son  of  Oileas, 

king  of  the  Locrians. 
Alcestis  (166),  daughter  of  Pelias,  and  wife  of  Admetus. 
Alpheus  (132),  a  river  which  flows  through  Arcadia  and  Elis. 
Althea  (65),  the  mother  of  Meleager. 
Amphithea  (53),  grandmother  of  Odysseus. 
Amphitryon  (55),  the  stepfather  of  Heracles. 

Anticleia  (2,  219),  daughter  of  Autolycus,  and  mother  of  Odysseus. 
Antilochus  (131,  151),  son  of  Nestor. 
Aphareus  (125,  187),  founder  of  the  town  of  Arene  in  Messene,  a»d 

father  of  Idas  and  Lynceus. 

279 


280  Index  to  Proper  Names. 

Aphrodite  (99-110,  160),  goddess  of  love  and  beauty. 

Apollo  (37-46,   189,  208),  son  of  Zeus  and  Leto.     He  was  the  god  of 

prophecy  and  of  music  and  song,  the  punisher  of  evil,  and  the  helper 

of  men. 
Arcadia  (5,  132),  a  country  in  the  middle  of  the  Peloponnesus. 
Ares  (223),  the  god  of  war.    Mars. 
Arethusa  (133),  a  sea-nymph. 
Argo  (2,  89),  the  ship  upon  which  Jason  and  his  companions  sailed  to 

Colchis. 
Argolis,  see  Argos. 

Argonauts  (2,  67),  "the  sailors  of  the  Argo." 
Argos  (2,  5),  a  name  frequently  applied  by  Homer  to  the  whole  of  the 

Peloponnesus.    A  district  north  of  Laconia,  often  called  Argolis. 
Argus  (196),  a  monster  having  a  hundred  eyes,  appointed  by  Here  to  be 

the  guardian  of  Io. 
Artemis  (134,  239),  daughter  of  Zeus  and  Leto,  and  the  twin-sister  of 

Apollo.      She  was  the  goddess  of  the  chase,  and  the  protectress 

of  the  young  and  helpless.     Diana. 
Asclepius  (87-90),  son  of  Apollo,  and  god  of  the  healing  art.     ALscula- 

pius. 
Atalanta  (68,  162),  daughter  of  Iasus  and  Clymene;  the  fleet-footed  wife 

of  Milanion. 
Athene  (10,  14,99-105)  goddess  of  wisdom,  and  "queen  of  the  air;" 

often  called  Pallas  Athene.     Minerva. 
Atropos  (66,  98),  one  of  the  Fates. 

Aulis  (233,  239-251),  a  harbor  in  Bceotia,  on  the  Euripus. 
Autolycus  (48),  the  grandfather  of  Odysseus. 
Balios  and  Xanthos  (97),  the  horses  of  Peleus. 
Bceotia,  a  district  north  of  the  Corinthian  Gulf,  bounded  on  the  east  by 

the  Euripus,  and  on  the  west  by  Phocis. 
Bosphorus  (197),  the  "ox  ford,"  the  strait  connecting  the  Sea  of  Mar- 
mora with  the  Black  (Euxine)  Sea. 
Cadmus  (217),  a  Phoenician  who  settled  in  Hellas,  and  founded  the  city 

of  Thebes.     He  is  said  to  have  brought  the  alphabet  from  Phoenicia. 
Calchas  (225,  241-252),  the  wisest  soothsayer  among  the  Hellenes.     He 

died  of  grief  because  the  soothsayer  Mopsus  predicted  things  which 

he  had  not  foreseen. 
CalydSn  (66-76),  an  ancient  town  and  district  of  ^Etolia,  on  the  Evenus 

River. 
Castor  (56,  68.  146,  185),  twin-brother  of  Folydeuces. 


Index  to  Proper  Names.  281 

Centaurs  (84-86),  an  ancient  race  inhabiting  Mount   Pelion  and  the 

neighboring  districts  of  Thessaly. 
Cephallenia  (183),  a  large  island  near  Ithaca. 
Charybdis  (155),  a  dreadful  whirlpool  on  the  side  of  a  narrow  strait 

opposite  Scylla. 
Cheiron  (58,  78,  170),  a  Centaur,  "the  wisest  of  men,"  and  the  teacher 

of  the  heroes. 
Chryse  (252),  an  island  in  the  ^Egaean  Sea ;  also  a  city  on  the  coast  of 

Asia  Minor,  south  of  Troy. 
Circe  (270),  daughter  of  Helios,  a  sorceress  who  lived  in  the  island  of 

yEaea. 
Cleopatra  (67-76),  wife  of  Meleager. 
Clotho  (66,  98),  one  of  the  Fates. 
Clytemnestra  (152,  242-252),  daughter  of  Tyndareus  and  Leda,  and 

sister  of  Castor  and  Polydeuces  and  Helen.     She  was  married  to 

Agamemnon,  and  became  the  mother  of  Iphigenia  and  Orestes. 
Colchis  (2,  87-89),  a  country  of  Asia,  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  the 

Black  Sea. 
Copais  (40),  a  lake  in  Bceotia. 
Corinth  (5,  49,  1 10),  a  city  on  the  isthmus  between  the  Corinthian  Gulf 

and  the  ^gasan  Sea. 
Corycia  (51),  a  nymph  who  lived  on  Mount  Parnassus. 
Crissa  (5,  29),  the  ancient  name  of  the  Gulf  of  Corinth ;  also,  the  name 

of  a  town  in  Phocis. 
Cronus  (11,182),  the  youngest  of  the  Titans,  and  the  father  of  Zeus. 

Saturn. 
Cythera  (165),  an  island  off  the  south-western  point  of  Laconia. 
Deianeira  (142,  171-181),  wife  of  Heracles. 

Delos  (38),  the  smallest  of  the  Cyclades  islands  in  the  /Egaean  Sea. 
Delphi  (5,  30-45),  a  town  on  the  southern  slope  of  Mount  Parnassus. 
Deucalion  (200),  son  of  Prometheus,  and  father  of  Hellen. 
Diomede  (151,  235),  son  of  Tydeus,  and  king  of  Argos. 
Dodona  (171,  225),  an  ancient  oracle  of  Hellas,  situated  in  Epirus  in  a 

grove  of  oaks  and  beeches. 
Echion  (61,76),  son  of  Autolycus. 
Elis  (125),  a  country  on  the  western  coast  of  the  Peloponnesus,  south  of 

Achaia. 
Epaphos  (16,  198),  son  of  Zeus  and  Io. 
Eris  (98),  the  goddess  of  discord. 
Erymanthus  (139),  a  mountain  in  Arcadia. 


282  Index  to  Proper  Names. 

Eubcea,  the  largest  island  of  the  ^Egaean  Sea,  separated  from  Bceotia  by 

the  Euripus. 
Eumseus  (114-119),  the  swineherd  of  Ithaca. 
Euripus  (233),  the  narrow  strait  between  Euboea  and  Boeotia. 
Eurycleia  (12),  the  nurse  of  Odysseus  and  of  Telemachus. 
Eurystheus  (138),  the  master  of  Heracles,  king  of  Argolis. 
Eurytion  (71,  92),  king  of  Phthia. 
Eurytion  (85),  a  Centaur. 
Eurytus  (55,  136-144),  king  of  CEchalia. 
Evenus  (176),  a  river  in  ./Etolia. 

Ganymedes  (208),  the  most  beautiful  of  mortals,  son  of  Tros. 
Glaucus  (25),  a  fisherman  who  became  immortal  by  eating  of  the  divine 

herb  which  Cronus  had  sown. 
Gorgons  (27),  three  daughters  of  Phorcys  and  Ceto. 
Gray  Sisters  (26),  daughters  of  Phorcys. 
Hades  (89,  170),  the  god  of  the  lower  regions.     Pluto. 
Hebe  (98),  the  goddess  of  youth. 

Hector  (101,  255),  son  of  Priam ;  the  chief  hero  of  the  Trojans. 
Helen  (145-162,  216,  267),  daughter  of  Tyndareus  and  Leda  of  Lacedas- 

mon,  represented  in  mythology  as  the  daughter  of  Zeus  and  Leda 

"  The  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world." 
Helenus  (258),  son  of  Priam,  soothsayer  of  the  Trojans. 
Helios  (5,  15-19),  the  god  of  the  sun.     Sol. 

Hellas,  the  name  which  the  Greeks  applied  to  their  country.     Greece. 
Hellen  (203),  son  of  Deucalion  and   Pyrrha,  and  ancestor  of  all  the 

Hellenes. 
Hephaestus  (90,  160,  193),  the  god  of  fire.     Vulcan. 
Here  (99-105),  the  wife  of  Zeus.     Juno. 
Heracles  (55,  87-90,  138-144,  169-181,  211-214),  the  most  celebrated  of 

all  the  old  heroes.     Hercules. 
Hermes  (100-104,  196),  the  herald  of  the  gods,  son  of  Zeus  and  Maia. 

Mercury. 
Hesione  (210-213),  tne  sister  of  Priam. 
Hesperia  (19),  "the  western  land." 
Hesperides  (5,  27,  139),  guardians  of  the  golden  apples  which  Earth 

gave  to  Here  on  her  marriage  day  —  said  by  some  to  be  the  daugh- 
ters of  Phorcys  and  Ceto. 
Hippodameia  (84,  167)  wife  of  Peirithous. 
Hyllus  (176),  son  of  Heracles. 
Hyperboreans  (6,  39),  a  people  living  in  the  far  North. 


Index  to  Proper  Names.  283 

Iasus  (163),  an  Arcadian,  father  of  Atalanta. 

Icarius  (155,  162),  brother  of  Tyndareus,  and  father  of  Penelope. 

Ida  (102-109,  208),  a  mountain-range  of  Mysia  in  Asia  Minor,  east  of  Troy. 

idas  (67,  185),  "the  boaster,"  son  of  Aphareus,  and  father  of  Cleopatra. 

Idomeneus  (151,  215,  235),  king  of  Crete. 

Ilios  (206-214,  253),  a  name  applied  to  the  district  in  which  Troy  was 

situated.     Ilium. 
Ilus  (208),  son  of  Dardanus. 
Inachus  (196),  the  first  king  of  Argos. 
Io  (196-199),  daughter  of  Inachus,  and  mother  of  Epaphos  from  whom 

was  descended  Heracles. 
Iolcos   (77-110),   an   ancient  town   of    Thessaly  at    the    head   of   the 

Pegasaean  Gulf. 
Iole  (138-144,  173-181),  daughter  of  Eurytus  of  CEchalia,  beloved  by 

Heracles. 
Iphigenla  (242-252),  daughter  of  Agamemnon  and  Clytemnestra. 
Iphitus  (136-153,  172),  son  of  Eurytus,  one  of  the  Argonauts. 
Ithaca  (1,  113),  a  small  island  in  the  Ionian  Sea,  the  birthplace  of 

Odysseus. 
Jason  (2,  68,  87),  leader  of  the  Argonauts. 
Lacedcemon  (5,  145-169,  189-204),  a  district  of  Laconia  in  which  was 

situated  Sparta.    The  name  is  also  applied  to  the  town  of  Sparta. 
Lachesis  (66),  one  of  the  Fates. 

Laconia  (5,  145),  a  country  in  the  south-east  of  Peloponnesus. 
Laertes  (2,  182),  king  of  Ithaca,  father  of  Odysseus. 
LaodamTa  (254),  daughter  of  Acastus,  and  wife  of  Protesilaus. 
Laomedon  (208-214),  king  of  Troy,  father  of  Priam. 
Lapiths  (84),  a  people  inhabiting  the  country  adjoining  Mount  Pelion 

in  Thessaly. 
Leda  (146),  wife  of  Tyndareus  of  Lacedasmon. 
Lemnos  (253,  260),  an  island  in  the  ^Egaean  Sea. 
Lichas  (174-179),  the  herald  of  Heracles. 
Linus  (56),  a  musician,  brother  of  Orpheus. 
Lycomedes  (228),  king  of  Scyros. 
Lydia  (173),  a  district  of  Asia  Minor. 
Lynceus  (185),  son  of  Aphareus,  brother  of  Idas. 
Machaon  (151,  262),  son  of  Asclepius,  the  surgeon  of  the  Greeks  in  the 

Trojan  war. 
Medea  (89),  daughter  of  ^Eetes,  king  of  Colchis,  celebrated  for  her 

skill  in  magic 


284  Index  to  Proper  Names. 

Medusa  (27),  one  of  the  Gorgons. 

Meleager  (66-76),  son  of  Oineus  and  Althea,  husband  of  Cleopatra. 

Menelaus  (150,  234),  brother  of  Agamemnon,  and  husband  of  Helen. 

Messene  (120),  a  country  in  the  south-western  part  of  the  Peloponnesus. 

Milanion  (163),  the  husband  of  Atalanta. 

Mycenae  (150),  an  ancient  town  in  Argolis. 

Mysia  (239),  a  country  in  Asia  Minor. 

Nedon  (131),  a  river  of  Messene. 

Neleus  (125,  173),  son  of  Poseidon  and  Tyro,  brother  of  Pelias,  and 

father  of  Nestor. 
Nessus  (176),  a  Centaur,  ferryman  at  the  River  Evenus. 
Nestor  (125,  235),  king  of  Pylos,  son  of  Neleus. 
Nireus  (151,  160,  235),  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  Trojan  war. 
Qceanus  (194),  god  of  the  Ocean. 
Odysseus,  the  hero  of  this  story,  son  of  Laertes,  husband  of  Penelope. 

Ulysses.        , 
CEchalia  (138.  T74),  a  town  supposed  to  be  somewhere  in  Eubcea. 
GSnone  (103,  263),  daughter  of  the  river-god  Cebren,  and  wife  of  Paris. 
OLta  (171,  180),  a  rugged  pile  of  mountains  in  the  south  of  Thessaly. 
Oineus  (65),  king  of  Pleuron  and  Calydon. 
Olympus  (5,  79),  a  mountain  in  Thessaly,  on  the  summit  of  which  Zeus 

held  his  court. 
Omphale  (173),  a  queen  of  Lydia. 
Orestes  (244),  son  of  Agamemnon. 
Orpheus  (248),  the  greatest  of  the  old  musicians. 
Orsilochus  (129,  134),  son  of  Alpheus,  king  of  Messene. 
Ortygia  (134),  an  island  near  the  coast  of  Sicily. 
Palamedes  (166,  217-224),  son  of  Nauplius,  king  of  Eubcea. 
Pallas  Athene,  see  Athene. 
Paris  (101-110,  204-216),  son  of  Priam  of  Troy. 
Parnassus  (5,  30-36,  201),  a  mountain,  or  group  of  mountains,  a  few 

miles  north  of  the  Corinthian  Gulf. 
Patroclus  (227,  234),  the  friend  of  Achilles. 
Peirlthous  (84,  167),  king  of  the  Lapiths,  son  of  Ixion  and  Dia. 
Peleus  (71,  91-100,  227),  son  of  yEacus  and  Endeis   the  daughter  of 

Cheiron. 
Pelias  (80,  125),  son  of  Poseidon  and  Tyro,  and  brother  of  Neleus.     He 

made  himself  king  of  Iolcos,  by  excluding  his  half-brother  ^Eson 

from  the  throne. 
Pelion  (79-110),  a  lofty  mountain  in  Thessaly  not  far  from  Iolcos. 


Index  to  Proper  Names.  285 

Peloponnesus,   all  that  part  of  Hellas  south  of  the  Corinthian  Gulf 

(Bay  of  Crissa). 
Penelope  (152,  162-168),  daughter  of  Icarius,  cousin  of  Helen,  and  wife 

of  Odysseus. 
Perseus  (27),  one  of  the  older  heroes,  son  of  Zeus  and  Danae. 
Phaeihon  (15-19),  son  of  Helios  and  Clymene. 
Phemius  (3,  14),  a  celebrated  minstrel. 
Pherae,  or  Pharae  (130-144),  an  ancient  town  in  Messene  on  the  river 

Nedon.     Also  (90),  a  town  in  Thessaly  of  which   Admetus   was 

king. 
Philoctetes  (159,  180,  252,  260-263),  a  friend  of  Heracles,  and  the  most 

celebrated  archer  in  the  Trojan  war. 
Phorcys  (20-27),  "the  old  man  of  the  sea." 
Phthia  (92),  a  district  in  the  south-east  of  Thessaly. 
Polydeuces  (146,  185),  brother  of  Castor  and  Helen.    Pollux. 
Poseidon  (22-27,  208),  the  god  of  the  sea.    Neptune. 
Priam  (101,  207-214),  the  last  king  of  Troy,  son  of  Laomedon,  and  rather 

of  Hector  and  Paris. 
Prometheus  (191-203),  a  Titan,  son  of  Iapetus,  the  friend  of  man. 
Protesilaus  (254),  a  hero  from  Phylace  in  Thessaly. 
Proteus  (23),  the  prophetic  shepherd  of  the  sea. 
Pylos  ( 1 25-1 31),  a  town  on  the  south-west  coast  of  Messene. 
Pyrrha  (201),  the  wife  of  Deucalion. 

Pyrrhus  (259-262),  the  son  of  Achilles,  also  called  Neoptolemus. 
Pythia  (34),  a  name  applied  to  the  priestess  of  Apollo  at  Delphi. 
Rhadamanthus  (6,  56),  son  of  Zeus  and  Europa,  and  judge  and  ruler  in 

the  Islands  of  the  Blest. 
Scandia  (164),  a  harbor  in  Cythera. 
Scylla  (155),  a  monster  with  six  heads,  which  guarded  one  side  of  a 

narrow  strait. 
Scyros  (228,  259),  a  small  island  east  of  Euboea. 
Sinon  (265),  a  grandson  of  Autolycus,  and  cousin  of  Odysseus. 
Sisyphus  (49),  son  of  jElus.     He  is  said  to  have  built  the  town  of  Ephyra, 

afterward  Corinth. 
Sparta,  see  Lacedaemon. 

Stymphalus  (139),  a  town  in  the  north-east  of  Arcadia. 
Syma  (151),  a  small  island  off  the  south-western  coast  of  Caria  in  Asia 

Minor. 
Syria,  or  Syra  (115),  one  of  the  Cyclades  islands. 
Talthybius  (250),  the  herald  of  Agamemnon. 


286  Index  to  Proper  Names. 

Taygetes  (149,  185),  a  lofty  range  of  mountains  between  Laconia  and 

Messene. 
Telamon  (214),  son  of  ^Eacus  and  Endeis,  and  brother  of  Peleus,  king 

of  Salamis.     He  was  the  father  of  Ajax  by  Periboea,  his  second  wife  ; 

after  the  death  of  Peribcea,  he  married  Hesione,  the  sister  of  Priam. 
Telemachus  (219),  the  son  of  Odysseus  and  Penelope. 
Telephus  (239,  241,  252),  son  of  Heracles  and  Auge,  and  king  of  Mysia 
Theseus  (147),  the  great  hero  of  Attica,  and  king  of  Athens 
Thessaly,  the  largest  division  of  Hellas. 

Thetis  (95),  a  sea-nymph,  wife  of  Peleus,  and  mother  of  Achilles. 
Tilphussa  (40),  a  nymph  dwelling  at  Lake  Copais. 
Tiryns  (143),  a  city  in  Argolis,  not  far  from  Mycenae. 
Trachis  (143,  171),  a  town  of  Thessaly. 

Trophonius  (41),  one  of  the  architects  of  the  temple  ai.  Delphi. 
Tyndareus  (146-169,  184-188),  king  of  Lacedasmon. 
Zacynthus  (183),  an  island  west  of  Messene. 
Zeus  (182,  191),  son  of  Cronus,  "the  ruler  of  gods  and  men."    Jupiter 


